


Restless

by FloweryFoxes



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Ghost!Elain, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27420829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloweryFoxes/pseuds/FloweryFoxes
Summary: AU: When Elain was put in the Cauldron by the King of Hybern, she wasn’t made Fae: she died. Now, she is doomed to remain a ghost for the rest of eternity. Feeling lonely, she seeks out the company of Lucien, who fled with Feyre to the Night Court to escape Tamlin’s wrath. Despite being dead, she starts to fall for him. Lucien returns her feelings, and will do whatever it takes to find a way to bring Elain back to live. Can love truly exist between a living person and a ghost?As they continue to fall in love, Lucien wonders if there is a way to bring Elain back to life.
Relationships: Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra
Comments: 14
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic since a very long time, but I had this idea in my head and I really wanted to write it. 
> 
> I'm not sure how many this chapters this story will have but I've already written a couple chapters in advance and I have a very big story in my head. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 1: Elain’s Death**

_Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast  
It is the darker side of me  
The veil of my dreams  
deceived all I have seen  
Forgive me for what I have been  
Forgive me my sins_

_The Truth Beneath The Rose – Within Temptation_

* * *

The king’s command hardly reached my ears, as I was dragged towards the Cauldron by the guards. Hysterics drowning out nearly all sounds, I struggled against their grip, but it was useless. A human girl against two strong Fae, I knew that it was hopeless trying to resist. That didn’t stop me from doing everything in my might to find a way to free myself when the Cauldron came closer and closer. The king made a gesture with his hand and the Cauldron was filled. The two guards lifted me as I screamed and cried louder, trying to kick the Cauldron to the ground. Between the terror and the madness I could hear my sister Feyre pleading for my life and my other sister Nesta screaming.  
But then my foot felt the cold of the fluid in the Cauldron, and I had never been more afraid in my life, never felt more hopeless. And before I knew it, I was pushed all the way in, and felt my body tremble… and my heart stopped beating.

I stare out of the window, as I take in the view. Up here, in the House of Wind, the view was truly beautiful. The trees were swaying gently through the wind, birds flying in and out and making beautiful singing noises. Most beautiful was however the night sky. Of course, that is what the Night Court is famous for. Yet seeing it myself, was something truly special.   
And yet, I would rather never have set foot in Prythian and miss all the gorgeous views, than seeing it as I do now: as a ghost. I have been dead for several weeks now, or was it months? It felt like forever since that faithful day. Feyre has been taken back to Spring Court, and Nesta has been turned Fae.

Nesta can hardly even look at me now. Her grief weighs so deeply on her, that she doesn’t want to see or speak to anyone. I try to comfort her, but every time she sees me, she bursts into tears. I can’t blame her; I definitely would have done the same. And how much comfort can I give her? Only empty words. I can tell her it will be alright, but I am still dead. And when I try to lay a hand on her shoulder of give her a hug, I go right through her. There is truly not a thing or a person I can touch: my entire body goes through everything. It looks like I’m walking, but in reality I can’t even touch the ground. I just hover above it, and take steps to make it look more natural.

Because in reality, I can’t deal with the fact that I’m dead. I can’t comfort Nesta because my own mind is going mad. Half the time I feel like screaming and ripping out my own hair, the other half I just stare endlessly into the abyss. Why am I still here, if I died? I have asked everyone here, but not in the world of Fae or of humans has there even been a ghost. Ghosts are stories to frighten children, and yet here I am. I can be seen and heard if I wish, but I cannot touch anything. My heart stopped beating and I don’t have to take a single breath. I cannot feel things such as hunger, thirst, the cold or tiredness yet I can still grieve and feel so many emotions. So how is that possible? I wish I knew.

“Elain?” a soft voice called from behind, stirring me from my thoughts. It took me a while to recognize the voice. “I’m back.” Feyre said, her voice slightly wavering.

I couldn’t bear to look at my sister, not yet. “I want to go home.” Was all I could think of saying. But I could never go home again. What would it do to my father, to Graysen, to see me like this? To learn of my death?

“He’ll be looking for me. We were supposed to be married next week.” I turn my engagement ring on my finger, the ring being pretty much the only thing in existence that I can touch.

Feyre apologised, and if my heart was still beating it might break along with hers. “Everyone keeps saying that. But it doesn’t fix anything, does it?” Because Graysen would be waiting for me back home, waiting for his fiancée to come back from wherever it is she went missing. Little did he know he was waiting for a ghost to return. But you can’t marry a ghost, can you?

Rhysand came into the room, asking if there is anything they can get for me. But all I want is to breathe again and find my fiancée. “I want to go home.” I repeat.

There wasn’t an answer, though I didn’t expect one. They left the room, and I was once again left alone.

It wasn’t until much later that day that I heard someone enter the room again. Expecting it to be Nesta or Feyre, or maybe even Nuala or Cerridwen, I am surprised to see someone else entirely.   
I look at him curiously; there’s something about him that is very familiar. The long red hair, the golden metal eye, the long scar around it. I suddenly remember, and it comes with a tidal wave of emotions: the male of my sister’s stories from Spring Court, the one who helped my sister Under the Mountain, her friend. At the same time images of my last living day come to mind. He was there, he had sided with Tamlin, with _Hybern_. And the king of Hybern was the reason I am dead.

The High Fae suddenly notices me, and there’s a hint of surprise on his face. “Excuse me, my lady. I didn’t know you were here. I was merely looking for a book.”

For a moment, I look surprised. Then I remember I am, in fact, in the library. The only reason I was here is so I could keep an eye out for Nesta, who stayed here for most of the time, although now she went out for a reason I don’t know. Hopefully to eat and drink something or to talk to someone who could help her better than me.

Getting lost in thoughts about my sister, I forget he was waiting for me to answer, so he continues: “If you wouldn’t mind, otherwise I can come back another time.”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t mind, mister…” I trail off, only now remembering I don’t know his name.

“Just Lucien, my lady.”

“Alright, Lucien. If you would please call me just Elain, instead of my lady.”

“Much obliged.” He says with a tight smile.

He continues looking for a book, and I return to my vigil near the window. So many books here, and yet I couldn’t even read one because I couldn’t pick up the stupid book, my hand just goes right through it. After so many attempts, I gave up frustrated. An eternity is a long time, and even longer when you can’t in fact even _do anything._ It does rather make sense now why ghosts in stories always haunt people. Probably just a way to keep themselves entertained. I don’t think though that Rhysand will appreciate it if I start haunting the people in Velaris.

As I continue staring, I can feel Lucien’s eyes burning in me. I turn my head around, and see him standing near a bookshelf, but his eyes are on me instead of the books before him.

“Elain, I… I-” He starts, and I can hear his heart racing. “Elain, I’m so, so sorry.”

My heart sinks to the ground, knowing what is coming next. I’ve heard this so many times since I’ve died, and I don’t want to hear it, but he continues before I can stop him.

“I’m so sorry for what happened, and I wish there was a way for me to reverse it. You didn’t deserve this, and I’m so sorry for the part I played in this. I know there is nothing I can say or do to make it better, and I can never earn your forgiveness, which is something I don’t deserve anyway. But please believe me when I say that I had no idea that the king of Hybern dragged you and your sister into this. I had no idea you were involved in his terrible wicked game. It was wrong of us to be on his side, even if it was just for a moment.” He had come closer while talking, looking at me with pleading eyes, and his words sounded so sincere. But yet I couldn’t help to think…

“Then why did you do it? Why did you side with him?” There was a sharpness to my voice, an accusation I didn’t mean. But it was there, and I didn’t feel very sorry for it.

“Because we wanted to save Feyre. Because Tamlin believed that Feyre needed saving, and I wanted to save Tamlin. Because we were desperate, _I_ was desperate. Because… because I’m a fool who didn’t think, who wanted to save a friend nearly at the cost of another. And in the end, you were the one who had to pay the biggest price. You, who is likely the most innocent in all of this, these acts of violence and greed.” Defeated, he sank into a chair, his hands covering his face, his voice tired as if centuries of all his deeds with Tamlin were catching up with him. Everything he had done for him in the past, on his behalf, to help out his friend. I didn’t know if the acts of violence and greed he talked about were referring to the king of Hybern or Tamlin.

Carefully, I stood up from my vigil by the window and walked over to him, taking a seat across from him. Because I can’t take away his hands from his face, I softly say his name. He lowers his hands and looks up to me, a look of shame on his face. “Why are you looking like that” I ask.

He shakes his head, as if it is perfectly understandable. “I have done so many things I shouldn’t have, because I thought the end would justify the means. That I was doing something good, that I was helping Tamlin. But whenever we disagreed, which was very often, I _tried_ to talk sense to him. But in the end, he would never listen. So I backed down. And by doing that I did so many things I shouldn’t have. But I did them, for him.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. “But why did you back down? Why did you do it anyway when you knew that it wasn’t right?”

Lucien lowers his eyes again, as if he couldn’t look at me while telling me this. “Because he is a High Lord. I know things are done very different here, in Night Court… But where I’m from, if there is something you do or say that the High Lord doesn’t like, you get punished. I have been punished so many times before by acting out of place, or saying things I shouldn’t have. Since the day I was born, that’s how things were done there. The Spring Court is not as strict as that, but Tamlin is still a High Lord. If you disobey him, you will have the right to punish you.”

I have to bite my lip to start screaming at him. Or rather, start screaming _for_ him. To be raised in such a place that barbaric… Prythian is so different from what I have known my entire life. But like he said, things are very different in the Night Court. I can’t imagine Rhysand would ever punish someone for simply disagreeing with him.

“Also, I’m in Tamlin’s debt. He has done so much for me in the past, so much. I owe him, and showing my gratitude by disobeying all his orders isn’t right. I have to be there for him, don’t I?” He asks, looking me in the eyes again, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince me.

“But if the things he asks of you are not right, how is that fair? Do you not have a will? Do you not have the right to say what it is you believe, what you think? He may have done good things in the past, things to help you. But that doesn’t mean you are in his debt. Things like that should be done out of kindness, not to make someone listen to you, to take control over them. And if believing that someone should be punished for speaking their minds, than that someone certainly doesn’t deserve such devotion.” Lucien gives me a long, intense look that I can’t decipher, but it sends me shivers down my spine. Not in an unpleasant way.

“And as for my forgiveness… I have never said you cannot earn it. Though I am starting to believe there is nothing to forgive.”

Lucien opens his mouth and closes it a couple of times, as though he cannot believe what I am saying. “Feyre… she told me some things about you. It almost seemed like she was painting a portrait that was a bit too nice to be true, but I am starting to feel that in reality it is even far prettier. Elain, if there is any way that in the future you might ever find it in you to forgive me for what I have done to you, I swear I will work my hardest every day to earn that forgiveness.”

Now it was my turn to give him that long, intense look. I take everything in; the face that was more handsome than any I had ever seen, even more so than Rhysand or Graysen to me. But a face that was so endlessly sad, his real russet eye filled with that sadness and that shame. His mechanical one was focused on me as well, and I wonder about all the things he could see with it. His scar, that made him no less beautiful and in fact added something extra to that hauntingly beautiful face. I don’t know how he got it, and it was a conversation for another time.

Lucien continues, “and may I please start by apologising for this very deep and heavy conversation I’m sure you didn’t want to hear.’’ He said, a bit embarrassed. ‘’I usually don’t start with very heavy conversations the first time I properly meet someone.”

I let out a small laugh, and he immediately looks a little less embarrassed. “Well, we didn’t really meet under usual circumstances either, did we? And truly, Lucien, I didn’t mind the conversation. I feel better about you now that I know you a little bit better. But for next time, maybe a little bit lighter talk, yes?”

He looks to me in amazement, as if he couldn’t comprehend that I was willing to have another conversation with him sometime in the near future again. He smiles and nods. “I promise, Elain.”

I do not have the slightest clue why, but there is something about the way he says my name that makes me feel… _something_ all over.

“Well, until we meet again.” He says and stands up, with a small incline of his head as he takes his leave.

“Yes, until we meet again.” I say, and when I return to my vigil at the window, and despite still being dead, I feel better than I have in months. _Until we meet again. Hopefully, that is very soon, Lucien._


	2. Supernova

**Chapter 2: Supernova**

_I’m waiting for your last goodbye  
‘Cause I’m not over it, not over it  
I’m waiting for your last goodbye  
The kiss of time  
Like thunder screaming out for a flash of lightning  
Stars are falling down for God’s applause  
I’m waiting for the light of your Supernova  
Your last goodbye_

_Supernova – Within Temptation_

* * *

Lucien POV

I return to my new room in the House of Wind, given to me for temporary use by Feyre and Rhysand. My head had already been swirling with thoughts about them, about the Night Court and Velaris. Everything I have believed about this place and its High Lord my entire life, everything I have been _led_ to believe, was a lie. It feels so strange, but surely, it must be a good thing? Instead of a fearsome Court of Nightmares led by a monster with no heart and soul, there is a Court of Dreamers filled with Fae who share the same hope he has that Prythian will be a peaceful place where people will be allowed to be who they want to be, believe what they want to believe and love who they want to love.

But now even those thoughts are all shoved aside for a moment as I think about the conversation with Feyre’s dead sister. Elain. A ghost. The most beautiful, kind and loving ghost in existence. Though, she was for as far as anyone knew the only ghost in existence. But I am sure that even if there were millions of ghosts roaming about, this statement would still be true.

I still feel embarrassed thinking about my behaviour back in the library. I didn’t want to bring up the fact that she was dead at all, I am sure she doesn’t want to talk about it and has heard similar things from the people here all the time. And yet when I saw her, I couldn’t stop myself. I absolutely _had_ to tell her everything, about how sorry I was for the part I played in her death.

I would have thought that after Amarantha punished me for speaking out of turn, I would have learned to keep my mouth shut. And yet there I was, sprouting out all of my thoughts and problems that seemed like nothing compared to a young innocent woman being kidnapped from her home, taken far away to strange lands and being murdered because a king tried to get his point proven right.

I still don’t understand how she found it in herself to even listen and look at me without screaming murder and mayhem, or asking one of her sisters to throw me straight out the window.  
Her voice had soothed something in me, so peaceful and calm she spoke. _And those eyes…_ those dark, chocolate brown eyes were so beautiful I could get lost in them forever. Not only that, but I want to know every story they hold.

I stop for a moment, shaking my head. Where do all these thoughts suddenly come from? The poor woman has probably already forgotten me.

Only now I realize that I completely forgot to take a book with me from the library, the reason I was there in the first place. It almost made me happy, as if I had a good excuse to go back now. Well, not right now, I decide. But later, I will seek her out again.

When it was time for dinner, everyone was there. I found myself guilty of looking for her, and berated myself for it.

_She’s a ghost, you idiot. She doesn’t eat._

I hardly dared to look at Nesta, who was here too. Despite the cold and hard look on her face, her eyes were red. I felt a surge of sympathy for her. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a sibling you have loved so fiercely your whole life. But Nesta doesn’t want anyone sympathy, and if our roles were reversed, neither would I.

Dinner didn’t last very long, and when I moved to return to my room I noticed Feyre drawing my attention. I walked over to her, in a quiet corner of the room. I wait for Feyre to start.

“Did you talk to Elain?” she asks, and my heart drops to the ground. Has Elain asked Feyre to tell him to stay away from her? Did she tell her sister everything I have told her because she was disgusted by it? By _him_?

When I don’t immediately answer, Feyre huffs impatiently. “I’m not angry at you, I just want to know if she’s alright.”

Relief and shame immediately flood my body. _Of course Elain didn’t ask that to Feyre, she would never do that._ Even though we only had one conversation, I was certain Elain would never do such a thing.

“Yes, we talked, last night. I’m not sure if I can say she’s alright though.” I admit. We had mostly only talked about me, for some reason.

“But did she say anything? Other than that she wants to go home or that she misses her fiancée?” Feyre pushes, eyes almost pleading.

I now remember that she is engaged. To a human, living male. There was absolutely no reason to feel jealous about this, but nevertheless I feel like finding the man that laid claim on her and do things to him I really shouldn’t.

“She didn’t mention either of those things even once.” I recall.

Feyre lets out a relieved breath, and nods. Then she looks at me curiously. “What did you talk about then?”

I didn’t want to lie to her about it, but now I feel even more stupid about the self-centred conversation I had with Elain. “I apologised to Elain for the part I played in… all of this.” I almost said ‘her death’ but saying that didn’t feel right. It doesn’t really feel like Elain was dead, while we had been talking earlier. I also don’t want Feyre to hear the words. It was her sister, and though she puts up a tough front like Nesta, I can still see the heart underneath it breaking for the loss of her sister.

“I told her that there was no way I could make it right or earn her forgiveness, but I wanted her to know that I didn’t know she was involved in any of this. I’m not even sure if those words matter anything to her, or to you, but I am sorry and I wish I could change it.”

Feyre looks sad, the shields she had put up to protect herself slowly falling apart. “What did Elain say?” she asks quietly.

I try to give her a tiny smile, but my heart clenches and I can hardly get the words out. “She said that it was possible that I could earn her forgiveness, and I will do everything I can to earn it.”

Feyre smiles for a short moment as she tries and fails to fight back the tears. They fall down her cheeks, and she stops fighting them.

“She is truly something else, Feyre.” I say softly, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

Feyre nods, smiling again through her tears, and I manage to smile back.

“I know, trust me, I know.” She wipes away the tears with the back of her hands and looks me in the eyes. I hold my hand on her shoulder and wait for her to speak again until she has calmed down enough.

“I miss her, Lucien. I miss her so much that I start to believe the ache in my chest has shattered my heart into so many tiny little pieces that it is beyond repair.” Feyre sobs.

“I’m sorry, Feyre.” I say again. “Listen, I never knew her in life but the conversation I had with her, she seemed like a kinder person than anyone I have ever met, and I am truly sorry she’s gone. But if there is anything I learned about her from the stories you told me about her and our short conversation is that she would want you to keep fighting to get those pieces back together again. And that isn’t easy, I know, and it might take a lifetime or even more, but you must at least try. For her.” As I speak, my own mind drifts off to the moment where I had felt my own heart being shattered into so many pieces it was beyond repair.

 _Jesminda._ After all these years, _centuries,_ it was still in pieces. But I try, for her. That doesn’t mean however that since that day I have only lived half a live, my heart lost between the stars.

“I know” Feyre says again, and I squeeze her shoulder a little in a supporting manner.

“And..” I start hesitantly, not really sure if Feyre wants to hear this. “She is still here, in a way. You can go and talk to her.”

Feyre starts shaking her head, her expression pained. “To see her like that… It breaks my heart all over again. I’m not sure I can take that. And I fear… what if she’s gone one day all of a sudden?”

Fear fuels my body. I had not thought about that. And I wish Feyre hadn’t mentioned it. Was it possible? For Elain to suddenly disappear? She was dead, after all, it wasn’t even normal that she was still here as a ghost. But why would she have remained a ghost only to completely erased from existence later? That seemed even more cruel. But nobody knew what was going on, probably not even Elain herself.

“I don’t know if that’s going to happen,” I say honestly, “but perhaps you can try to talk to Elain. See if it gets better.”

Feyre nods, but I still doubt if she will listen. Feyre gently squeezes my shoulder in return. “Thank you, Lucien. I needed this talk.” She has stopped crying, and she looks a little bit less strained than before.

“Anytime, my friend.” I answer, and she gives me a sincere little smile, as if calling her my friend really means something to her. And I think it does, because at least it does for me.

Feyre starts to take her leave, but before she reaches the door she turns her head and speaks. “Oh, and Lucien? To me, it does matter. And I’m sure to Elain it does too.” She leaves before I can ask her what she means. Then I remember, and my heart is for a moment filled with warmth again, as I repeat the words in my head. _I am sorry and I wish I could change it._


	3. Wildflowers

**Chapter 3: Wildflowers**

_The hills were alive with wildflowers  
And I was as wild, even wilder than they  
For at least I could run, they just died in the sun  
And I refused to just wither in place_

_Wildflowers – Dolly Parton  
  
_

Elain POV

There are many things I miss about being alive. Simple things such as enjoying delicious food, feeling the sun and wind kiss my skin, or walking through the grass with bare feet. Or activities such as reading a wonderful book or baking that delicious food. But most of all, I miss gardening. The pure joy of tending to my plants and flowers, taking care of them and watching them grow into things of pure magnificence.

Instead, I have to look at the slightly wittered and forgotten garden without being able to do anything about it. Of course, I know everyone here has better things to do, especially with an uprising war. And yet it broke my heart a little to see the garden here being forgotten.   
I walk around, wishing I could touch the petals, but my fingers go right through them, like they always do since I have turned into a ghost.

“It does look a little sad, doesn’t it? The flower.” A voice from behind suddenly says.

I turn around, startled, not having heard anyone approach. Lucien was standing behind me, a soft smile on his lips and his hair glowing in the sunlight.

I look at the flower he was referring to, the one I had tried to touch. A little sad is an understatement, it is nearly as dead as I am. Lucien raises his eyebrows in silent surprise and I realize a moment to late that I said these words aloud.

“Sorry, I suppose that was a bit morbid.” I apologise, but Lucien shakes his head and waves his hand, indicating that he doesn’t mind.

“You don’t have to apologise, I was just a little surprised to hear you say that.”

“Because I admit I’m dead? Well, that’s the only conclusion I have. My heart doesn’t beat and I stopped breathing, and now I’m floating around without being able to touch anything or anyone.” The words come out bitterly, though I didn’t mean it that way. But it is the truth, and I don’t want to shy away from it because I’m scared of it and don’t like it. Though I regret the bitter tone a little when Lucien casts his eyes down in silence. Yet again the conversation we were having was going into the heavy stuff again.

“Sorry, we had promised to maintain a lighter subject this time. At least this time it’s my fault.” I say with a little smile, which becomes bigger when he returns it with one of his own.

“Floating?” he asks, almost in a shy manner, as if he wasn’t sure it would be polite to ask, but I smile and nod.

“Yes, actually. I know everyone thinks I’m walking but my feet cannot even touch the ground. I float just above it and walk in order to not creep everyone out.” I turn and walk up to the stone bench, surrounded by some flower beds. I sit down on it, patting the place next to me. “You think I’m sitting, but same thing: I just hover over it and make it look like I’m sitting.”

Lucien walks over to me and sits on the bench as well. “That actually sounds very tiring. Though I suppose you don’t get tired.” I shake my head, agreeing with him, as we sit in silence for a moment.

“So what brings you to the garden, Lucien? I hadn’t even heard your arrival. Very impressive of you, being able to sneak up on a ghost.” I ask with a cheeky grin.

What I absolutely did not expect was for Lucien to blush. Especially of what I had heard about him from Feyre, Lucien was not one to blush quickly. Or ever, at all. I look at him with growing curiosity.

“Well, I, uhm… I was, you know, looking at you- I mean looking for you, I mean.” He stumbles out the words, repeating them twice and now it was my turn to look at him in surprise. Blushing was one thing, but stumbling over all of his words? Feyre told me he had the sharpest tongue and the wittiest mind with the quickest come-backs out of everyone she knew. And yet he could now hardly get a single sentence properly out of his mouth. He clears his throat, trying again.

“What I was saying, I was looking for you and I figured you would be in the garden, after I couldn’t find you in the library. When Feyre was in the Spring Court for not so very long she told me she had a sister who would love to go there, seeing as gardening was her greatest joy. I guessed Nesta was not that sister.” He says with a smile, managing to get the words out smoothly this time.

I nod, “Yes, back home I had a garden I always tended to, even when we were poor and nearly dying of starvation I managed to keep it up in the warmer months. It is indeed my greatest joy. Which makes me very sad to see this garden, how it is left behind here. Half the plants are dead and the other half is not very far from it. There are weeds growing everywhere and a lot of plants need serious pruning.” I look around the garden, and start pointing out plants to him.

Before I know it I tell him the names of the plants, what they would look like if they would be thriving instead of dying, their origins and at what time of the year they grow. “Some plants I don’t recognize though. Which is something that doesn’t happen very often.” I look at him, and see he is smiling. “What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Which ones don’t you recognize?” is all he asks, that curious smile still on his face. I point them out, wondering if he knows what they are.

“Not surprised you don’t know them, since they only grow in Prythian.” He says.

“Really?” I ask surprised and turn to inspect the plants. “Are there really flowers that only grow here? Nowhere else?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know if they really don’t grow anywhere else, but they don’t grow in mortal lands. They’re enchanted flowers, I suppose. They don’t only live on sunlight and water but on magic too.”

I feel like someone just opened up a whole new world for me, and I feel excitement running through my veins. Never in my life would I have thought there were plants and flowers out there who would live on magic too. I wonder how many there were, how it worked, if you can take care of them the same way as you would with any other ordinary flower and if you needed magic yourself to be able to take care of them.

“Do you know their names? Are their flowers and plants native to each court? Can they grow everywhere as long as there’s magic? Do you need magic to take care of them?” If I still had to breathe I probably couldn’t even have gotten the questions out quite as fast, and I was interrupted by Lucien’s laughter.

“Hold on, not so fast! Yes, there are flowers native from each court. I’m not sure if they can grow anywhere, but I suppose they can. You don’t need magic to take care of them, the magic of the flower will do that. I don’t know all their names, but I’ll try if I can remember some of them. My mother taught me all these things, I’m sure she told me their names too.”

I look at him completely fascinated. I haven’t had a conversation like this in such a long time. When I start to think about it, I haven’t had a conversation like this for a long time even when I was still alive. Who would have gladly talked with me about all the flowers? Graysen definitely not. He of course didn’t mind my enthusiasm, but it was not like he wanted to discuss these things with me. Nesta and I didn’t really have conversations like this either, and I hadn’t seen Feyre in a very, very long time. Only my father would be willing to listen to my endless bramblings about gardening, but he was also on a business trip for quite some time already.

I listen intensely to all the information Lucien can tell me about the flowers, trying to remember everything at once as if it was the most precious information one person could tell another. To me, it was. There was nothing else I had left, anyway.

As we talk back and forth about all the different flowers we know, making it a game of who can name the most (I win of course by miles, but Lucien doesn’t seem to mind at all), time passes by until the sky begins to darken and I wonder how many hours have passed by.

“It’s starting to get dark, we should probably go back inside.” Lucien said almost disappointed, as if he was sad too that the time has gone by so quickly. I look up to the sky, the orange and pink of the sunset painting the most beautiful colours in the sky.

“Yes, hours must have passed already since you came out looking for me.” Suddenly I remember something he said while he was struggling to find the right words. “Wait, didn’t you also say you were looking at me?” I ask, looking back at him again.

The sky wasn’t dark enough yet to hide the blush that creeps back on his cheeks. “Well, I don’t want to sound creepy. But I was looking for you and when I found you I watched you for a moment before I approached you. You looked so ethereal walking around in the garden, like some beautiful spirit my mother talked about in her fairy tale stories when I was younger.” He admits, his face looking down a little but his eyes still meeting mine.

Now it was my turn to blush. Many men had complimented me over my ‘good looks’ as they called it over the years. But I was always annoyed by them, as they were trying to undress me with their lustful gazes and half-minded comments. None of them ever felt sincere of ever slightly flattering. But in the almost shy way Lucien admits this, I cannot help but blush and wonder if he really means it. “How come?” I ask shyly, getting genuinely curious.

“They were always very beautiful, and that is an understatement. They looked like they were crafted by some God himself to create the perfect face. They were usually dressed in white garments like you are, with their long, thick hair flowing down in waves.” He stopped himself before he could say anymore, seeing as my head was probably even redder than his hair. I did feel flattered, but it was almost too much, as if he was trying too hard like those village boys. But the difference was that he really seemed to mean it. Nevertheless I was grateful that he stopped.

I look down at my hands. Ever since I was a ghost, I am stuck in this appearance. It is still me, but my skin is always slightly glowing. I am not transparent, but you wouldn’t mistake me for a normal person or even a Fae. Instead of being turned I was killed, and yet it felt like my appearance had taken that of a High Fae. My ears weren’t pointy, but I felt taller and sleeker, my features were even more defined and the High Fae also seemed to have a sort of immortal glow on them. Instead of an immortal glow, mine was one of a ghost.   
My hair was indeed coming down in long thick waves, like it always had, reaching my waist.   
I had died in my nightgown, but was very grateful I didn’t have to spend eternity in it. The dress, or rather the corset and the skirt, were white, the colour of death. I was bare feet and around my neck was a white lace choker tightly around my throat, as if it was a constant reminder that I had stopped breathing and death has claimed me.

“Well, you are very handsome yourself.” I say hopelessly, and immediately feel like sinking through the ground. I realized that in fact I could do that now as a ghost, but I figured that would only make things weirder. I could also slap myself in the face, but I don’t think that would be any less weird, possibly even more.

Lucien grins however, and it has a naughty edge to it, like he knows I hadn’t meant to say that. “Thank you, my fair lady.” He says, that grin still on his face. Couldn’t he be the one who fumbled with words and started blushing again?

“Shall we go inside then?” I change the subject, even though I still didn’t like going inside after this pleasant afternoon. But I needed a desperate change of subject and this was unfortunately all I could think of.

“Of course.” He stands up and nearly offers his arm, realizing his mistake a second to late. The smile falls from my face, and I wish I could link my arm through his. I wish I didn’t have to be a beautiful spirit, but a breathing, living person. The wonderful pleasant feeling I’ve had this afternoon for the first time since a very long time disappears like snow in the sunlight.

Despite my words, despite trying not to hide from the truth and accepting my own death, I would set the world on fire to find a way to live again, and if I couldn’t, I would rather have eternal peace than be a ghost until the end of time.

As we walk inside, the quiet thunder that has been inside of me since I died starts to get louder and louder, trying to reach out so that the storm may begin.


	4. All I Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited to introduce many of the other characters in this chapter, I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, a bit longer chapter :D

**Chapter 4: All I need**

_Don’t tear me down for all I need  
Make my heart a better place  
Give me something I can believe  
Don’t tear it down, what’s left of me  
Make my heart a better place_

_All I need - Within Temptation_

* * *

Elain POV

I try not to wince at the high-pitched scream coming from Feyre, but it’s not easy. The noise pierces my ears, Feyre screaming as if she was being murdered. Fortunately, no such thing is happening. Feyre and Rhysand were, as usual, fooling around again like little children on a playground. In first instance they had come to the library, looking up information that they needed, but it has turned into something of a tickle fight. And by the sound of it, Rhysand is definitely winning, as Feyre is gasping for breath right now, begging for him to stop.

I take a glance in their direction, seeing their happy, red faces. _Lovebirds,_ I think as I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth tug upward and I can’t help a little smile. It made me so happy to see Feyre like this. Genuinely happy, surrounded by friends who took care of her and loved her as much as she loved them. She deserves it, after all. Because behind their smiles I can still see the tiredness in their eyes. I know the thoughts about the war are keeping them up at night, and was all they could usually think about during the day. I am very glad they’d found a moment to do something silly, even if it seems it has to be at the cost of my hearing.

And at the same time, it makes me endlessly sad. I look the other way again, cannot bear to watch them for too long. It is like they are a reminder for the thing, or _person_ , I miss most in the world right now. I twist the engagement ring that’s still around my finger.

The incredible urge I feel every day to see Graysen again is becoming more and more unbearable. Even just thinking about him shattered my no longer beating heart. Is it possible I will ever see him again? I don’t know if I can travel all the way to the mortal realm, and there was no way he was coming over here. And what if we did meet, what would I do or say? What would it do to him? I don’t even know if he could actually see me. What if only Fae could see ghosts, but not mortals?

But the worst part is a little voice in my head that was starting to scream louder and louder each day, no matter how hard I try to push it away: we can never be together again. I am dead and will remain dead forever. He is still alive. We will never marry.

But I desperately cling on to that last shred of hope. If it is true love, it is beyond life, beyond death. Or at least that’s what they say, isn’t it? Maybe, just maybe, we can never marry. But what if we can find a way to be together?

My heart feels like it is beating so fast, even though it doesn’t beat at all. I have made up my mind however. Tonight, I will ask Feyre to take me to the mortal realm. To Graysen.

The sound of people leaving the dining hall is my cue. Although I can still talk to everyone here, it doesn’t feel the same as it did before. Of course people know I’m dead, and it changes the way they talk to me. The way they look at me. I’d really like to have a conversation with someone, the same way as I would have in life. But they all talk in a very careful way, avoiding certain topics and I can feel that talking to me makes them feel uncomfortable sometimes. The only time I’ve had a normal conversation with somebody, was the one with Lucien in the garden, where we sat and talked for hours. He hadn’t looked uncomfortable at all.

But I generally don’t see many people. I’m not sure if they’re avoiding me or if I am avoiding them, but it isn’t a coincidence I’m sure. Though I do find myself guilty of peeking around the door to see if Lucien’s still here, but I can’t find him. I push the thought aside and look for Feyre, who’s thankfully still there, with Mor and Azriel.

I enter the room, heading straight for Feyre. No one hears me approaching, not even the shadowsinger, so I clear my throat. Three heads shoot up, slightly surprised by my unexpected arrival. “Feyre,” I start, and decide to go straight to the point, “I want you to take me to Graysen.”

Everyone’s eyes became twice as large and Mor’s mouth even dropped. There was a stunned silence, and I wonder if I should have taken Feyre somewhere privately first, but of course I hadn’t thought this through beforehand, and it was too late now.

“You want to see Graysen? But Elain…” Feyre starts, her eyes full of sympathy I really don’t need right now.

“But I’m dead, I know.” I nearly bite out the words, a bitter note lacing my voice. I immediately regret it, seeing the immense hurt on my sister’s face. “But,” I start again, much gentler this time, “I still love him, Feyre. I love him so much that it hurts every second I’m apart from him. I don’t even know if he’s aware of what happened to me, and he should know, shouldn’t he? And I just- I just…” I trail off, not knowing how to put into words what I’m feeling right now, this tidal wave of emotions.

Feyre’s face softened, the look of sympathy replacing one of understanding, and I realize I don’t need words to tell her. She already understands.

“I know. But how do you think he will react to the news, Elain? I don’t know him, but do you think he can handle it, seeing you as a ghost? And mostly, I wonder what it will do to you, Elain. Can _you_ take it? To see him again.” Her voice is gentle but urgent, as if willing me to understand. And I do, but the urge to see him is greater.

“I understand your concern, and I love you for it. Nevertheless I _need_ to see him Feyre, whatever it takes. I cannot stand to be apart from him any longer. What if you were in my place, wouldn’t you give everything in the world to see Rhysand again?”

Feyre sighs, because of course she would do everything. But she wasn’t giving up. “Elain, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

I look pleadingly to Mor and Azriel, but they seem to side with Feyre on this. Mor opens her mouth to speak: “I understand your hurt, Elain. Believe me, I do. I have lost someone…” she trails off, ignoring Azriel’s curious stare, and she looks me straight in the eyes. “Elain, listen to me. What will you do when you see him again? You can never be together again. You cannot marry each other anymore, no matter how much you wish too. There is no way that meeting isn’t going to end with broken hearts and in tears. For both of you. Feyre, all of us, want to spare you from that pain.”

It was like someone poured a bucket full of ice cold water over me. Rather, like I was being put in the Cauldron again and felt that extreme terror again when my foot first touched the water. She just said the exact words I’ve been doing my best to push away out loud. I know, somewhere, that Mor is saying this to spare me and I can even tell she had a hard time getting all those words out. But I feel anger rising, like it did yesterday when I went back inside after spending the afternoon with Lucien in the garden.

“No, _you_ listen to _me._ If I can say I can handle it, I can handle it. And to be honest, I don’t know if I can, you’re right. Nevertheless it is _my choice_ and mine _alone._ And I’m willing to take the risk to see him again. There is nothing left for me now, anyway. If you don’t want to take me to him, than fine. I will find another way to go to him. And there is no way you can stop me, so don’t bother trying. I _will_ see him again and what happens than is to us, not to any of you.” The words spill out of my mouth, with a determination and will I surprise even myself with. And not only myself, when I look at their faces. Mor even shows a bit of respect, Feyre concern and Azriel’s hard look I can’t decipher, but I don’t really care. I await for an answer, but as the silence continues, I’m not even sure if I’m getting one, which enrages me even more.

Without saying another word, I turn and walk away, hearing Feyre calling for me. When I don’t answer and continue walking, she runs after me, stopping in front of me knowing trying to grab me won’t work. “Elain, wait, please.” She repeats, and I stop walking, even though I could just walk right through her if I wanted to. I wait for her to start talking though.

“If you are set determined to go there, I’ll take you. But please know that I’m only concerned for you, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I look down, thinking for a moment. “I’m already hurt. Like I said, I don’t know if I can take it but I want to do it anyway. Never seeing him again is worse.”

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but it is as Mor said. When you meet him, what then? You can never marry each other.”

“I know.” I say, but it feels like a lie. I look up at Feyre again, meeting her eyes. “But I am a ghost, and maybe for a reason… What if it is because I get a chance to say goodbye to the ones I love? No one else gets that chance, so how lucky am I then? This is my chance to see goodbye to Graysen.” This is definitely a lie and I know it.

Feyre also looks doubtful, but she seems to give me the benefit of the doubt, or she just goes along with it. “Alright then. But be careful, Elain, please.” I nod, and she continues: “We cannot go tonight anymore, it’s too late, but we-”

“Tomorrow.” I finish for her, not waiting to hear what Feyre wanted to say. “We can go tomorrow.”

Feyre purses her lips, clearly tomorrow wasn’t what she had in mind. She nods in confirmation however, though she doesn’t look too pleased. “Tomorrow it is then.” She walks back to the dining hall, calling a goodnight.

“Goodnight.” I call back, and head back up the stairs, finally feeling hope return again.

* * *

The night seems to go awfully slow, as if time was being dragged out, second by second. If at least I could go to sleep, or do something else to pass the time. But I can only stare and wait until the dawn comes, which feels like an eternity. Feyre and I hadn’t agreed on a time, but if it wasn’t the earliest thing in the morning I fear I would go crazy.

Slowly but surely, time passes by and the sun is starting to rise. I impatiently wring my hands together, looking every couple of seconds towards the door to see if Feyre is entering the room. 

“Can you please stop fidgeting? It’s making me nervous.” Cassian says, who was trying to eat his breakfast. The Illyrian always got up this early in the morning for training, I had learned. Every now and again we had a conversation, mostly about our common concern for Nesta. We vowed to keep our concerns silent for everyone else, since Nesta wasn’t the kind of person who’d probably appreciate people talking about her behind her back.

“Feyre told me she’s going to bring you to see Graysen today, on your request.” He starts, waiting for me to say something in return. When I don’t answer, he continues, “I actually think-”

“I don’t really care what you think about this.” I snap, my nerves tight as strings that were being stretched out to the point of snapping. I immediately regret it, what is wrong with me? I never used to snap at someone, or hardly ever even got angry with someone. Now I snapped at someone for the second time in 24 hours. But to be fair, I’m really not in the mood to listen to someone trying to change my mind again, even if they meant it well.

Cassian stops for a moment, a brief flash of hurt and insult on his face, but then he continues as if I’d said nothing: “Actually, what I was going to say is that I think you’re quite brave, Elain.”

My eyebrows go up in surprise, and I look at him as he takes a nearly impossible large bite of his sandwich. “Why?” I ask softly, almost feeling as if he was making some sort of joke, but I feel like Cassian wouldn’t do that, not to me at least, and not about this.

“To still be able to face someone you love. I admire that.” He says between bites.

I lower my eyes, staring into nothing. “I’m not sure if I am able to face it actually. I fear what will happen. But I just have to see him again. I don’t love him any less than I did before, and we are engaged. I want him to know that I still love him and miss him deeply. And I want him to hear it from me, not anyone else. I want to talk to him again, even if doing so will break my heart.” I admit my feelings out loud, my voice soft and my gaze still avoiding Cassian’s.

It was silent for a moment, when Cassian spoke up again. “I really respect that, Elain. And I wish you well.”

I dare to look up at him now, and I see him smile kindly to me. I smile as well, a small but genuine one. “Thank you, Cassian. I appreciate that. And I’m sorry for being rude to you, I didn’t mean to, I just-”

He waves it away with his hand, his mouth full of food. “Forgive and forget.” He says with a full mouth, and I laugh a little.

“Forgive and forget what?” Nesta asks as she walks in, a rather sour expression on her face.

“Nothing.” I say, as Nesta grabs something to eat for herself. I look longingly at the food, missing its taste. It’s a good thing I can’t smell things anymore, or this would have been even harder.

“Feyre told me everything that happened last night,” Nesta says, and before I can interrupt her she continues, “and I’m coming with you.”

My initial fear of Nesta smothering all my plans disappears. Standing up to Feyre was one thing, standing up to Nesta whole another. I try to not look to relieved as I ask her why.

“Because I’m not letting you get your heart broken. Because I’m your sister and I love you, and if something happens I want to be there for you.” Nesta looks me straight in the eyes, her voice as firm as always but I can hear the tightness in her voice is coming from trying to hold back the pain and fear.

I have always seen Nesta completely different than anyone else. When people looked into her eyes they mostly saw the cold steel, that she needs to survive. What I see is a fierce determination. I know that Nesta would go to the absolute edge of what is possible and will find a way to cross over to the impossible if that is necessary. She is stubborn and headstrong, but for the right reasons. Her and I couldn’t probably be any more different, yet I feel like we know each other better than anyone else does, have seen sides of each other that no one else has ever seen. I also know that Nesta would go to any length to protect me, to keep me safe and sound, to shield me from any harm, however small. And so I also know that my death has broken her more than she lets on.

I was put into the Cauldron first that day. When I came out of it, lifeless and cold, she went mad as hell. How it is possible she survived and I didn’t, I’m not sure. But I know that she was so mad at the world, that she must have survived on willpower alone. Because she has to revenge me. I know, because I saw. The moment my sister was put into the Cauldron, she pointed her finger to the King of Hybern. It was a promise, a promise of revenge, for everything he had put us through, to revenge my death. That promise had been as frightening as being drowned into the Cauldron itself.

So now Nesta tells me she is coming along, all I can do is nod gratefully. I actually feel relieved she is coming with us. Even in death she will stand by my side in difficult times, no matter how hard that is for her. “Thank you.” I whisper, hardly audible, but I can tell she heard me.

“When are we leaving?” I ask her, hoping she would know.

“Right after breakfast.” Her answer makes me quiver with anticipation. It’s nearly time.

* * *

I pace around the hallway. I don’t have my own room, since I don’t need one. I don’t have any possessions and I don’t need a place to sleep. Rhysand offered me a room when I first got here, to have a place for myself. But to me it felt ridiculous, a ghost with her own room. There would be nothing in it. And if there was something in it I couldn’t touch it or do anything with it anyway. So I refused the room, and often wander in the library or in the garden instead.

But right now I didn’t want to miss Nesta and Feyre walking out of the kitchen, but since everyone is eating their breakfast right now I don’t want to stay there, still feeling uncomfortable around so many people. So pacing the hallway outside the kitchen it is.

“Elain? Are you alright?” A familiar voice calls out. I turn around, seeing Lucien about to enter the kitchen, but stopping in his tracks.

“Yes, no. I don’t know. Nervous.” Nervous was an understatement. If I still could I would probably be throwing up right now.

“I heard… where you are going.” He says, clearly unsure as if to continue the conversation.

I don’t know why, but it makes me unsure as well. Part of me wanted to know what he was thinking about me going to see Graysen, which felt crazy because I just snapped at Cassian for trying to share his opinion on the matter. Part of me didn’t want to know what he was thinking on the matter, because I was scared I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Yes, we are leaving right after breakfast. I’m waiting for Nesta and Feyre to finish and then we’ll leave.” I inform him, keeping my voice and expression neutral. Or at least, that’s what I’m trying to do, but I feel like trembling. With fear, anticipation, excitement, I don’t know. Maybe a mixture of all of them.

“So soon?” He says, something in his voice I can’t unravel. It’s like he is also trying to keep his voice and expressions neutral, but doesn’t seem to manage it one hundred percent either. Which made me wonder, why? No one else here seems slightly hesitant to share their opinion, almost to the point where it became annoying. But I had figured that Lucien was different than everyone else here, which wasn’t necessarily either a good or bad thing.

“Yes, on my request. I couldn’t wait any longer.” _I’m dying to see him_ I almost said, but that certainly would have steered the conversation in a rather morbid or weird situation again, which seemed like something that was happening frequently when I was talking to Lucien.

“Well, good luck than, Elain.” He says, starting to move towards the door opening again, “And… and be safe.” He disappears into the kitchen, and I’m left with a head full of surprise.

What was that about? It had sounded like he was going to say something else, but then he didn’t. He hadn’t even shared his opinion on the matter, being the only one so far. _Maybe he thinks I’m a foolish idiot, deceived by my own thoughts._ But why should I care if he thinks so, I didn’t care about anyone else’s thoughts. Yet somehow it matters.

I shake off the thought, because I hear footsteps approaching. When Feyre and Nesta walk through the door, their expressions concerned and certainly not pleased, I lift my head a little. This is my decision, and I still stand by it.

“So how do we travel there? Feyre can’t touch Elain so she can’t winnow her, and Elain can’t do it herself.” Nesta asks, and Feyre looks at me, the question in her eyes as well. 

I actually hadn’t thought about it, until now. How in the world do ghosts travel? Especially distances this far. “Well… I suppose we can’t take a carriage?” I ask, thinking about how long it would take for us to finally get there.

Feyre shakes her head. “That will probably take us a week, and we will have to travel to nearly every court. That would even be difficult if it is the most peaceful of times, but now it is practically impossible.”

“I thought so. In that case, Feyre can winnow Nesta to the human world.” Travelling such a distance in such a short time made winnowing the only option left, I think.

“But what about you? Like Nesta said, I can’t touch you, so I can’t winnow you. How will you get there?” Feyre asks.

“I’ll walk.” I simply say and shrug. Both their mouths fall open and they look at me as though I’ve grown two head.

“Walk? How in the name of the Cauldron do you think you can walk all the way over there? The carriage takes a week, walking will take you a year!”

“Have you completely lost it, Elain? Walking? That’s not even possible!”

They both nearly shout at the same time, half their words being drowned out by each other’s voices. I impatiently wait for them to finish their shouting, so I can continue.

“First of all, you may remember that I’m dead, so I don’t get even slightly tired, or need to rest or sleep or drink and eat. Secondly, it’s technically not walking but floating. And for some reason, I think it will take me no time to get there. Remember, you can’t winnow such a large distance at once, you will have to make stops too. And it will take up a lot of your energy too, especially when you have to carry someone, so you won’t make it before the evening either I suppose.”

They still look at me like I’ve said I murder baby’s in my spare time, but I shrug again. “I know it sounds silly, but I genuinely think this will work.” What makes me feel even more silly however is realizing only now that if I am indeed correct, I wouldn’t have asked Feyre to take me there in the first place and could have avoided the whole mess of last night. But what’s done is done, and I am secretly glad they are coming with me.

“This isn’t just silly, Elain. This is madness!” Nesta shouts, but I’m done discussing things.

“I’ll meet you at the estate. Race you there.” With a smile, I vanish out of their sight, leaving them both with baffled stares and open mouths no doubt. My smile grows a little bigger, thinking about the sight. I feel a little guilty for just walking out on them like that, but I’ve waited long enough. I also know that they will follow, if only out of concern for me. Which is probably the only reason they will follow. I still don’t know if I’ll make it there, but for some reason my gut was telling me I could do this.


	5. Caged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this story, I sort of stick to the plot of the book (for as far as that's possible of course) but not entirely.   
> In this chapter however, I do try to stick to canon. It was quite difficult to write because in the book, Graysen seems mostly angry at Elain because she is Fae and mated to a Fae. In this story, she is neither (yet), so I was forced to change it a little. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!

**Chapter 5: Caged**

_He told me he loved me  
While he laughed in my face  
he just led me astray  
He took my virtue  
I feel so cold inside  
Sorrow’s frozen my mind_

_Caged – Within Temptation_

* * *

Elain POV

I was right. Travelling as a ghost is completely different, and also much faster. I know Fae can run very fast if they wish, but that is also very exhausting so they can’t keep it up for _that_ long. But I don’t get tired, so I travel a lot faster than the living do.

What surprises me most is how I knew I could do this. I have zero knowledge about ghosts, me being the only one in existence probably, and yet somehow instinctively I had known what to do. I even somehow know which way to go, without a map or anything. Not that I could have carried it with me. I pass court after court, without seeing much more than blurs of colours and shapes.

It was late in the afternoon when I arrived at the mortal border, crossing the wall, or rather, going straight through it. In fact, I’m pretty sure that when I was in the Winter Court I was going straight through some mountains as well. I guess there are some perks about being a ghost after all.

It didn’t take much longer to arrive at Graysen’s estate. Well, his father Lord Nolan’s estate. There aren’t any signs of Feyre’s and Nesta’s arrival yet, and being here makes me shiver all over again. I stare at the estate, where I should have spent the rest of my life in, along with my husband to be. Instead I am now looking at it as a ghost, in fear of what will happen when I enter beyond those high gates and face my fiancée. I still don’t know if he knows what happened to me. It is very unlikely he knows for sure that I am dead. But there are many signs of a violent kidnapping left in my old house I’m sure, remembering that awful night. I close my eyes for a moment, feeling sick just thinking about it.

I wait for Feyre and Nesta to arrive, my patience running thinner with each passing second. Every sound startles me, wondering if the sound are my sisters finally arriving, and I start pacing around again like I had been doing all morning. What if they had changed their minds and went back? What if they didn’t believe I could travel here or if they figured it was a waste of their time? What if they hadn’t followed me at all, leaving me to do this myself? The last thought chilled me right down to the bone. My throat became unbearably tight and tears threatened to spill over.

“Elain?” a voice whispers and I whip around. Relief floods me as I see the concerned faces of my sisters. They hadn’t abandoned me, of course they wouldn’t.

“Elain, are you okay? You look like you’re already crying! I knew this was a bad idea, we should head straight back.” Nesta says, and already turns around. 

“Nesta, no, I’m fine! I promise!” I cry out, reaching out for her in a moment of desperation, and my hand goes right through her arm. Nesta turns just in time to see, and we are all silent for a moment. It’s not the first time that something like this happened, and we know that will happen every time I will reach out to someone or something. But every time it was a terrible reminder of reality. One I don’t need right now.

“Nesta, I’m fine.” I say again, as if repeating it would suddenly make it true.

“Then why are you nearly in tears?” she asks, not convinced. Feyre doesn’t look any more convinced than Nesta does.

“Because I was scared you wouldn’t follow me. That I had to do this on my own.” I admit, a little ashamed for thinking so little of them.

“Elain, you know we would never do that! Even if we don’t want you to do this, we still support you!” Nesta cries out, and my shame deepens.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry. But I’m so nervous and afraid…” I trail off, scared that this will make Nesta turn around to leave again.

“That’s okay, Elain. Like Nesta said, we are here for you. We’ve got your back.” Feyre says and Nesta nods, agreeing.

“Thank you.” I whisper, feeling encouraged by their words. “Let’s go then.”

“Wait.” Feyre halts me, “we first have to discuss how we are going to do this. What’s the plan?” she looks at me and waits. I don’t have a plan, but I realize we can’t just barge in like that.

“I think that you two should walk to the gates, asking the guards to call for Graysen. They know Nesta a little, so they should trust you.” I think out loud, trying to come up with a way I can speak to Graysen without anyone else’s interference.

“And what if they don’t? What if they ask for a reason? They will probably be surprised to see me, since we are missing, remember? And if they see we are Fae, they might shoot us before we get a chance to speak. I know Lord Nolan detests us.” Nesta counters.

“If they ask for a reason, tell them it has something to do with me but is private, only for Graysen. And I really don’t think they’ll just shoot two females on the spot, Nesta. They’re not savages, and you clearly come in peace. But I mostly think that as soon as they realize it’s you, they will get Graysen immediately. Don’t you think he’ll be looking for me? He must have asked all the guards to keep an eye out for me, or anyone who could potentially know my whereabouts.”

Nesta stays silent but Feyre nods. “And then?” she asks.

“Then,” I continue, “you must first tell Graysen I died. If my suspicions are true, he won’t know yet, not for sure anyway. If I show up to him like this, I don’t think he would handle it very well. Who would?”

Nesta and Feyre look like they would rather be doing anything else in the world right now, including fighting a dragon and nearly dying in the process. I can’t blame them. I can’t imagine having to tell Rhysand or Cassian that their beloved died.

“If you tell him that, tell him the truth: I have somehow become a ghost and I’m here to talk to him. I’ll handle the rest.”

They looked very doubtful at that, but nevertheless they approached the gates. “It looks like a prison. I bet there’s not a single flower growing inside. I can’t imagine Elain living here in a hundred years. Stuck in this place, bound to etiquette and corsets for the rest of her live.” I can hear Feyre say as they walk away, probably thinking I was out of earshot.

I can’t hear Nesta’s response, now they are really out of earshot. I lower my eyes, a hint of sadness creeping up on me. Feyre was right about the flower. I had planned to make changes here, though. Make it my own. It just needs a feminine touch, that’s all. My eyes look up again just in time to see them nearing the gate, the guards spotting them. I come closer so I am within earshot again.

As soon as the guards notice my sister, a dozen arrows point at them, and I fear I made a horrible mistake and that Nesta was right about being shot on the spot. They hold their arrows however, and Nesta speaks up: “My name is Nesta Archeron, and this is my sister Feyre Archeron. Tell Graysen we immediately wish to speak to him about his betrothed and our sister, Elain Archeron.”

I hold my breath as the guards discuss amongst themselves, until eventually one gallops away on his horse towards the estate. It seems like forever, but eventually in the far distance I can see several people on horses approaching. I feel like heart was beating like a wild animal, even though it was completely still.

At last, they come closer. I can’t hear what the guards say to my sisters, and I try to come closer but that is hard without being seen, even as a ghost. My sisters are led into the guard house, and I wonder what to do next. I can’t follow them, if the guards see me they’ll probably have a heart attack. But I need to see Graysen, so I come as close as I dare while he’s not here yet. From this distance I can see my sisters through the window, looking every bit as uncomfortable and out of place as is possible.

I turn my head to see the men on horses coming closer and closer, until finally they are clearly visible. A thousand emotions run through me as I watch Graysen dismount his horse, his face also a blur of different emotions. I have no time to unravel them all, because he enters the guard house.   
I feel dizzy with fear, excitement, longing, restlessness and who knows what else. Only now I notice Lord Nolan is there too, along with at least a dozen guards, maybe two. They also enter the guard house and I peek through the window again. With every guard inside, I dare to come closer now.

I can see my sisters talk to Graysen, his face earnest. How I have missed those blue eyes, his earnest expressions and young voice. I come closer without even noticing, standing only a couple of steps away from the window.

Graysen opens his mouth to talk, but is interrupted by his father. He doesn’t look pleased at all. But I only give him a momentary glance, my eyes glued stuck to Graysen.

The conversation keeps moving back and forward, mostly between my sisters and Nolan. I have the urge to just barge in there, wondering what was taking them so long. When could I come in, at last?

Just when I thought I couldn’t restrain myself any longer and wanted to take a step towards the door, something in Graysen’s face changes immensely. And without hearing a single word, I knew that this was it. My sisters told him of my death. I close my eyes for a moment, not wanting to see the painful expression on his face, but I force them open again. I told myself I would endure this, so I will.

My sisters continued talking, and Graysen was going as white as a sheet, as if he had turned into a ghost himself. Now I don’t exactly know what my sisters had said, or how they had said it, but I figured this was my cue. I manage to rip my gaze away from Graysen to look at the door, relieved to see it was still open. Slowly, step by step, I walk over, and stand in the threshold. No one has noticed my arrival yet, and I look inside the room. My sisters are standing on the right side, my fiancée and his father on the left. Guards are spread throughout the entire room, keeping a very close eye on my sisters. I take a step closer and it is completely silent, as all air seems to go out of the room when Graysen turns his head and looks me straight in the eyes.

* * *

He inhales a sharp breath, his eyes going wide as saucers. If possible, he becomes even paler. I vaguely notice every other person in the room turning their head as well, but all I can focus on is Graysen. I take a few steps closer, but when he backs away I stop, slightly hurt that he backs away from me.

“Graysen.” His name comes out in hardly more than a breath. We continue to stare at each other, all words I had thought of saying completely lost, my mind being blank. It is like I’m in a haze, being drowned in it.

“Elain…” he finally says, and hearing my name on his lips again shakes me awake again. “But, but how, you- you’re dead, dead.” His voice is strained, his expression painful, and I wish I could run to him and throw myself in his arms, feel his warmth so it will comfort both of us.

“I am.” I have to choke the words out, but the confused expression on his face forces me to continue. “I was killed, and somehow, I’ve been turned into a ghost.” I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud before.

“Than why are you here?” he asks, still confused.

“I don’t know how it’s possible I’m still here. I’m not entirely, but-”

“No, I mean why are you here here. At my house.” His question seems sincere, but it feels like my heart is breaking into a million pieces. Why does he wonder why I’m here? For him of course! But he must be so terribly confused, I remember.

“I came for you.” I try to explain. “To see you, to talk to you.”

“But why?” he asks again, and this time I’m at a loss for words. How could he not understand?

“Why would you do this, Elain?” he continues when I don’t speak, his voice growing louder, the hurt behind his words crystal clear. “Why, how could you do this to me? To look for me, while you’re dead. To make me see you like this.” His breathing becomes ragged, as if it was taking great effort for him to speak.

“I’m sorry! I’m so, so _sorry_ , Graysen. I don’t want to hurt, I never meant to hurt you!” I cry out, but he shakes his head. I desperately continue, “I didn’t know what to do. I have been restless and in pain since that day, and all I could think of was you. I have missed you so much, more than my own life. Oh Graysen, I’m so sorry.” I reach out with my hands, palms turned up.

But he backs away again, as if he feared my touch would turn him into a ghost too. “No, Elain. So now what? Now you come here, for what reason? Don’t you understand? There’s nothing more I can do for you now! There is nothing more that can happen between us. What did you think would happen? That I could still marry you, love you? You’re dead, Elain, _dead_! There’s nothing I can do to change that.”

I’m sure that if he would stab me every single time he said a word it would hurt me less. All the pain I’ve carried with me since the moment I’ve become a ghost, the terrible aching… It exploded in tenfold, the feeling worse than dying in the Cauldron, more painful and cold.

“But I still love you, Graysen.” I say softly, laying my feelings bare as if we are the only two people in the room.

“You deceived me, coming here and raising my hopes. But I guess you might be lucky, being dead. You could have been turned Fae instead.” He says, his eyes that suddenly seem cold throwing dirty glances at my sisters who had come up to stand right behind me. “You say you love me, but your heart doesn’t even beat anymore.”

“My heart belongs to _you._ ” I plead, still hoping this was all some horrible misunderstanding, that somehow this was a terrible nightmare even if I don’t sleep anymore.

Graysen’s face hardened. “I don’t want it.”

The tiny last shred of hope I had, the small precious ray of hope I’d clanged onto like it was my last lifeline just shattered beyond repair. To feel hurt like this, the agony, like I was drowning… My face crumples and sorrow freezes my mind, my entire being.

Feyre steps forward, her voice laced with anger, “Enough! We shall leave. Maybe one day you will understand what you just lost, and I hope that it will hurt just as much.”

I just stare at Graysen as he continues to stare back, his once loving gaze beyond recognition. Coldness, betrayal, hurt. Emotions that I’d never seen there before, not like this.

Lord Nolan interrupts, “Enough of this indeed. Take your leave right now.”

I hear Feyre and Nesta ready to turn and leave, their anger radiating from them. But I don’t move, and neither does Graysen.

Suddenly, he speaks up again, “Take that ring off.” His voice was as cold as his expression.

Not believing what I hear, I curve my fingers into fists, as if someone might grab my hand and slide it off anyway. “No.”

Graysen wasn’t taking no for an answer however. “Take. It. Off.” He grits his teeth, anger rising in him and about to be unleashed. Nolan murmurs a warning, which Graysen ignores. I don’t move, standing frozen in place.

“ _Take it off!”_ he shouts, more angry than I have ever seen him in my life.

“I said that’s enough!” Feyre says, sounding as if she was about to lose her temper too. “Elain will keep the ring if she wants too. Though we wouldn’t mind if she threw it at your feet.” She hisses.

Graysen looks at Feyre, directing his anger at her now. “Elain can keep the ring, she’s dead. It’s not like she’s ever going to find someone else, she’s not fuckable anymore anyway.”

Nolan told Graysen to watch his tongue, but he ignored his father yet again. Another blow hits my heart at the coarse language. Graysen turned to me again.

“Even if you were alive, you’re still a traitor. I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take every other person, Fae or not. But not you. Never _you._ ”

Tears slide down my face. I wished I was truly dead. I wish the Cauldron killed me properly, that I had never been turned into a ghost. That I’d never had to hear this. I wish I’d never been alive to begin with.

Nesta moved faster anyone could see, until she was in front of Graysen. Nesta smacked him hard enough that his head snapped to the side.

“You never deserved her.” Nesta snarled, a baffled silence covering the room. Graysen swore and cupped his check. Nesta turned towards Feyre. “We’re done here.”

Feyre takes the lead, leaving the guard house. Nesta puts her arm around me, for as far as she can without actually going through me. In a daze, I walk beside her as we both follow Feyre out of the guard house.

I try to move forward, not noticing I’m not even taking steps anymore, instead floating along. I can’t concentrate on anything, the storm inside of me raging so hard, so loud, that I can’t focus on anything else. Tears keep sliding down my face, the pain so tangible that I want nothing more to rip it out of my body.

Once out of reach of the estate, Feyre and Nesta immediately turn towards me, but before they can as much as open their mouths, I crumple to the ground, tears flowing freely as wrecked sobs leave my body.

“Elain.” I don’t even recognize whose voice it is anymore. “Elain, let’s go home.” I believe it’s Feyre. I try to concentrate on that, on her voice. I can hear her heartbeat when she’s hovering so close over me. I look up at my sisters, seeing their sorrow for me sketched in their faces. Wanting to comfort me, but knowing it was useless. Now they felt like I’ve been feeling ever since I died, when I wanted to comfort them but knowing there was nothing I could do for them, to make it better, nothing but empty words. I couldn’t even give them a warm and comforting hand on the shoulder, and now I was missing that warm feeling too.

I keep crying for who knows how long, until I shakily manage to stand up again. I look my sisters in the eyes, willing my tears to keep themselves at bay when they are threatening to spill over again. “Let’s go home.” I repeat, though I don’t know where that is anymore.


	6. Our Farewell

**Chapter 6: Our Farewell**

_Sweet darling you worry too much, my child  
see the sadness in your eyes  
You are not alone in life  
Although you might think that you are_

_Our Farewell – Within Temptation_

* * *

Lucien POV

From the moment I found out that Elain was planning to find her betrothed again, an unpleasant feeling has been gnawing inside of me. I have no idea why, because it doesn’t make any sense. She is still in love with him, and wants to see him again. They were engaged to be married, so it wasn’t just a fling or anything. Elain doesn’t seem like the type for that kind of thing anyway. If you truly love someone, even death doesn’t change it. My love for Jesminda still burns brightly, despite the fact that her murder happened centuries ago. Some wounds even time can’t heal, it seems.

Sorrow, guilt and an ancient sadness settle inside me once again. They are always there, in the background, never leaving me be for just a moment. But sometimes they resurface again, and it makes me feel like I’m burning up inside. Having fire run through my veins, I sometimes wonder if it’s really possible that I’m actually burning from the inside. Because in days like these, when I’m all alone and the thoughts of the past are on my mind, it sure feels like it.

Jesminda had been the most magnificent, trusting and caring person to walk this place. She was bold and daring, and had never been afraid to voice her opinion, how different it might be from those of others. But she didn’t just shout things out loud that made no sense, she was always thoughtful and righteous. When I didn’t know what to do, she was there to guide me. When she didn’t know what to say, I was there to tell her.

Then come the what-ifs. What if I had told her to leave me, to run away. What if I we would have been wiser and ended it. What if my father could show mercy for once in his life. What if my brothers would have stood by my side instead of holding me down. She would still have been alive, wouldn’t she? What if… we would never have met.

But the thought of never even knowing her, was almost too hard to swallow. It’s the most selfish thought I can possibly have, because her affiliation with me caused her death. I we’d never met, she would still breathe the air. But thinking of a life where I never could have seen that smile, never heard her laugh, never listened to her wise opinions or just simply watch her be, was too much. _Selfish,_ I think as the shame and guilt wash over me again.

Trying to distract myself from drowning in my own thought yet again, I go downstairs to see if Elain had returned yet from her trip. After the sisters had left, we had moved back to the town house. Not having a place of my own yet here in the Night Court, Rhysand had invited me to stay in his house. To be honest, he didn’t seem very pleased with it, but knew that Feyre would protest if he kicked me out. I didn’t feel very comfortable here either and was trying to find a place of my own as quickly as I could.

Rhysand had undoubtedly informed Feyre that we have moved back here, so I went to the sitting room to see if they’d arrived yet. I don’t know how long the visit will take them, especially when I was informed about Elain’s unique way of travelling. I hope everything went alright, when suddenly a thought pierces my mind. What if Elain didn’t return? What if she decided to stay with her fiancée?

I hadn’t thought about it yet, but wouldn’t that make perfect sense? Maybe that was the reason she wanted to go there in the first place. To spend their days together like they had promised to each other, even if she was a ghost. If Jesminda turned out to be a ghost, I would undoubtedly follow her to whatever end, love and cherish her as I had done during her life. When you love someone that much, death doesn’t mean the end.

I’m still not sure however why I really dislike the thought of Elain staying behind with this man I didn’t even know. Stupid, I know. It’s her fiancée, so it doesn’t matter if I know him, as long as she loves him. But the thought of never seeing Elain again stings, far more than it should.

I anxiously sit down, time ticking by until it is well past dinner time. My stomach grunts and I give in, wandering off to the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepared a meal, and it seems everyone else in the house had already finished it. I take whatever’s left and sit down. At that moment, noises are coming down from the hallway. Forgetting about dinner, I try not to run towards the door.

My heart drops to the ground. Only Nesta and Feyre are standing in the hallway. They don’t look at all happy. They look more like they’re in a murderous rage, especially Nesta. That doesn’t bode well.

“Where is Elain?” I ask them, completely forgetting about a polite greeting.

They don’t bother with one either however. “She isn’t here yet?” Nesta asks, the look of murder on her face being replaced by one of worry.

I shake my head, feeling uneasy. “Should she be here already?”

“When we were on our way there, she was faster than us. Our way back took us even slightly longer.” Feyre tells, looking around as if Elain might pop out of the walls.

“Did something happen?” By the looks on their faces it was already clear that something had happened, and their concern for Elain not being here yet only confirmed that.

“Graysen can choke in his own vomit, that foul-” Nesta was interrupted, probably for the best, by Elain coming – quite literally – through the front door.

Seeing her face, incredibly sad and distraught, shoved all thoughts I had earlier away, along with all the questions of what happened. The first thing that came to my mind now was taking care of her.

I reach out my hand, changing my mind halfway through and lower it. I try to look Elain in the eyes, but she refuses to meet my gaze, or anyone else’s.

“Elain?” I ask, unsure of what to do or say. It’s useless to ask if she’s alright, because clearly she isn’t. I can’t give a comforting touch or offer her a seat or something to drink.

She doesn’t answer me. Nesta softly says something to her. I could hear it if I want, but I feel like it’s only for Elain to hear, so I don’t listen. Elain seems to do the same however. She looks like she’s living in a whole other world.

The pain in her eyes goes so deep, and seems so familiar. I know it has something to do with Graysen, and it clearly had not ended well. In fact, it seemed like it could not have ended worse. Fighting the incredible urge to look that man up and beat him to a pulp, I took a breath and realized that Nesta had probably already beat me to it. That thought is actually immensely satisfying.

Elain moves to walk away, and I fear that when she does, the pain will only go deeper until it became the only thing left of her. I should know.

I desperately try to think of something, something that could comfort her or at least make her listen. When she takes a step away from us, and then another, I ask her, “Would you like to come to the garden?”

Elain holds still for a moment, her gaze still not meeting mine. She doesn’t move, but she doesn’t say anything for so long that I think this won’t work either. But then, a tiny nod, and she moves towards me. Trying not to be distracted by the fact that she just floated, I realize she is waiting for me to lead the way. Of course, she has never been here before.

I don’t make the mistake of offering my arm again, instead pointing my hand towards the garden and walk that way, Elain following next to me. I can hear Feyre let out a small relieved breath. I can also feel Nesta’s eyes burning in the back of my skull, probably trying to burn holes in it. I have seen the silver flames in her eyes, and wonder if she can. I dismiss that thought, finding it too scary to think about. I also choose to ignore again the soft conversation they’re having, knowing I probably don’t want to hear it.

Instead I focus on Elain. She is walking again, instead of floating. I enter the garden, looking up towards the sky. The sun is already set, and the night sky is the most precious thing you could set your eyes on in this court. The stars look like glittering jewels, sparkling with life. The colour of the sky is such a deep and dark blue, it’s nearly black. The full moon is shining brightly, moonlight falling on the leaves and flowers.

Elain doesn’t seem to notice however. I turn my gaze back to her, and a small shudder runs through me. Last time we were in the garden, the sun had been shining brightly, and she had looked like a beautiful spirit from a fairy-tale.   
Now, underneath the incredibly bright moonlight in a sky that looks painted black, with the glittering stars, she looks… Well, like a _ghost_.

I realize how stupid that sounds, because she _is_ a ghost. But sometimes, he nearly forgot. The ‘beautiful spirit’ had always seemed to fit her much more. But now, she really did look like a ghost. She was always slightly glowing, a white light radiating from her, her skin white as snow. But now the moonlight was shining on her already glowing skin, and it increased the effect immensely.   
The slight breeze had nothing to do either with the fact that her hair and skirt also always seemed to sort of dance around her.

But the expression on her face was truly one befitting a ghost. The endlessly sad eyes, a far-away look that seems to confirm she’s not of this world any longer. She looks like someone who lived a long, long time. He would have believed that, if he hadn’t known she’d been only in her early twenties when she was killed.

“Elain? Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly, not expecting that she wants to. Or even to give an answer. Or hear me, even.

However, her sad eyes turned on me, indicating she had heard me. “Graysen doesn’t love me. Not anymore.” Her voice is soft and sad, and my heart clenches.

“He said I have betrayed him. That I hurt him, by seeking him out again.” Tears start sliding down her face, and I desperately wish I could wipe them away. Instead, all I can do is stand here and listen, while her tears keep cascading down her beautiful, broken face. “I offered him my heart. He refused it.” She barely gets the words out before her silent tears become full-on sobs. Her hands cover her face, shoulders shaking fiercely. I notice the iron engagement ring around her finger, and once again wish I could shred the man who gave it to her to pieces.

Who, Fae or human, could find it in him or herself to hurt such a precious person? To hurt anyone at all, seems utterly pointless. But to hurt someone like her, a caring soul, someone who had defended him without even really knowing him, someone who loved her flowers more than some people loved others, it seemed like utter madness. How cruel do you have to be, to be able to stomach this? He didn’t know the man, and he didn’t want to either. If he was capable of hurting Elain like this, he was probably no better than my father. Graysen doesn’t deserve Elain, and never will. Though I am starting to believe that no one could truly deserve Elain, precious as she is.

“Elain.” I repeat, searching for the right words, words that could hopefully comfort her. How could he say it would be alright? Or that he’s sorry for her? Or that Graysen is a despicable human being? None of those things are likely going to make her feel better.

“I know a little bit of what you are going through, of what you are feeling, trust me. I know what it is like to lose someone you love so dearly. In a different way, but a loss is a loss. I want to tell you it gets better with time, but I’m not sure it does. I wish I could say that the wound will heal, but it never fully does. All I can say, is don’t turn away from the people you love, the people close to you. Let them help you, so you don’t have to be all by yourself. Allow them to help you. It doesn’t make the road to healing much easier, but it will help to keep the darkness a bit more at bay. You’re not alone, even though I’m sure you feel like you are. But you have your sisters, who I know would lay down their lives for you. You have the entire Inner Circle, who are the most trustworthy people I have met in the centuries I’ve lived. And, you have me. I want to help you, Elain. I know what it’s like, and I don’t want you to feel the hurt the way I did. I don’t want you to be alone like I was, or to feel as unloved. Because you are loved, Elain. If Graysen can’t see what a truly wonderful person you are, he’s the fool. Because I have known you for nothing more than a couple of days, and I can already tell you are the kindest soul around. Ghost or not, I don’t think you have changed who you really are inside. That time we had our first conversation, you saw a light in me I’d never seen before myself, and I don’t think many other people have either. Now let me help you find your light again, so that it will lead you back to a path of happiness. I believe, I _know,_ you will still have one.”

Elain stares at me, and stares and stares. I stare back in those incredible dark eyes. “Do you really believe that? There’s still a path for me where happiness lies? In the future?” The flicker of hope in her eyes made me sure of it.

“Yes, I’m sure of it Elain. You don’t seem like the sad, wandering ghost kind. More like the kind that will talk about flowers for hours to a person she’s just met.” I say with a small smile, hoping she will return one.

And she did, though it was the tiniest one, only there for a split second, not reaching her eyes. But it was there, and it was a beginning. I had meant what I said. I believe she can be happy again, and I want to do everything in my power to help her find it again.


	7. Covered By Roses

**Chapter 7: Covered By Roses**

_I feel my heart explode to particles  
Love is always here and I told you so  
Restless in dreams love carved in stone  
This rhapsody of life in a way  
I guess we all know it_

_Covered By Roses – Within Temptation_

* * *

Elain POV

_“Now let me help you find your light again, so that it will lead you back to a path of happiness. I believe, I know, you will still have one.”_ Lucien’s words still echo in my ears.

I had not expected to even feel the slightest shimmer of hope again, but when I heard those words, for some reason I believed him. I don’t know why. He does seem to genuinely believe it, but he can still be wrong. I try to push the doubt away. But it’s not easy when Graysen’s words also still echo in my head, over and over again.

_“Even if you were alive, you’re still a traitor. I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take every other person, Fae or not. But not you. Never you.”_

I can’t help it, but a silent tear slips out, followed by another and another. Crying silently was all I’d been doing the last couple of days. I feel embarrassed, being so easily brought to tears. But there’s nothing else I can turn my thoughts to. If I’m sad, I try to distract myself by doing something else. However, there’s nothing I _can_ do. I can only stare, walk around and think. And that last part was the problem. Before I know it, I get lost in my own thoughts, thinking about the pain so that it increases again.

I want to go into Velaris, but travelling there as a ghost won’t be a great success I suspect. Staying indoor and staring at walls is driving me crazy however. So as usual, I end up in the garden. The garden in the House of Wind had been very sad, and this one wasn’t that much better. True, there were many less dead things, but there were less plants either.

I look around the place, thinking of what plants would thrive here. Before I know it, I have a whole plan of what plants should go where, including some of the magic plants that Lucien had told me about. Most plants that are here are beyond saving, and should be replaced by new ones. I make notes of everything in my head, glad to be able to push the thoughts that have been taunting me all this time away. It was only for a moment however.

I sigh in frustration. My hands were absolutely itching to carry out my ideas, but they would go straight through the plants I wanted to hold. Even the garden couldn’t seem to give me peace anymore for longer than a few moments.

I go inside, wandering through the entire house. Just when I was contemplating to live up to being a ghost and find someone to haunt out of boredom, I hear footsteps approaching and Lucien comes around the corner. “There you are.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You’ve been looking for me?” I ask, rather surprised.

“Yes, I have. I’ve hardly seen you these past couple of days and I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He comes closer and gives me an inspecting look.

It warms my heart a little, his genuine concern for me. If only Graysen could find it in himself to care enough how I felt, despite being dead.

The words ‘I’m fine’ nearly slip out of my already opened mouth. But I close it again. The words nearly came out automatically, like they have been for years regardless of how I really felt. But it doesn’t seem right to say it now. I clearly wasn’t feeling fine. Generally, people asked how you are feeling to be polite. They don’t really want to hear any other answer however. Because then they are obliged to talk about it, when most of the time they don’t really care. Lucien didn’t ask this question out of politeness however, but because he genuinely wants to know if I’m feeling alright. So an honest answer is what he’ll get.

“Not really, no. I’ve been crying for days and I feel terrible. Every time I try to focus my thoughts on something else, I quickly lose interest because I can’t actually do anything. And then my thoughts wander back to Graysen. I get sad and start crying. A rather vicious circle that keeps repeating itself without end for days now, and I’m really sick of it.”

If I had expected him to be shocked or surprised by my answer, I was wrong. He looks at me for a few moments, than says “Come with me.”

Before I can ask him where we’re going, he’d already turned around and walks away. I quickly follow him, curiosity rising.

To my surprise, he is heading towards the door. “Are we going outside?” I ask, a little worried. Where is he planning on taking me?

“We are.” Is all he says, clearly not planning to reveal his destination just yet. He notices my worry however, and adds with a comforting smile, “Don’t worry, we’re not likely to run into any people. At least, I’ve never seen any others there.”

I nod and follow his lead, my curiosity growing even stronger. Part of me wonders if I really want to follow him to an unknown place, outside, where I might scare the life out of some poor Fae wandering the streets. Another part of me really wants to follow him however. Partly because of my curiosity, but mostly because I feel comfortable following _him_.

It’s very quiet on the streets of Velaris, and the few people that are scattered about don’t even notice me, as if I am truly transparent. Sometimes I worry if in time, that’s what I would become. Maybe ghosts only last for a short period of time, slowly disappearing altogether.

“Hey, I told you, no worrying.” Lucien interrupts my thoughts, both his real and mechanical eye looking at me in an analysing way.

“Sorry.” I apologise.

“And you don’t have to apologise.”

“Right, sorry- no, I mean…” I sigh in defeat, stopping my brambling when I see Lucien smirking.

“So are you going to tell me where you are taking me or not?” I ask in an attempt to change topic.

“Nope.” Is all he says in return, amusement still lingering in his eyes.

“Can I guess?”

He lets out a little laugh. “Well, you can, but if you guess right I’d be very, very surprised. Or perhaps Feyre or Rhysand told you about this place. I’m sure Rhysand knows about it, since he’s the High Lord of this court. But I don’t even know if Feyre knows about it, or at least has been there. I found it on my own the other day, when I was exploring the city. Though, technically, where we’re heading lies just outside the city. Hence why there don’t seem to be many people there.”

“We’re going that far?” I ask, yet again surprised.

Lucien mistakes my surprise for worry however, because he turns to me, worried. “I’m sorry, I probably should have told you that before we left. We can still head back however-”

“No, no. It’s alright, I want to go there. Besides, you’ve made me so curious about our destination that I don’t care if it’s on the other side of Prythian, I really want to go there now.” I reassure him.

He gives me such a happy smile, that I can’t help but smile back. We continue in a comfortable silence. In the meantime I look at the landscapes. The farther we are heading in this direction, more and more meadows are stretching out, the green fields bathing in sunlight. We haven’t seen anyone since we left the city, and the quiet feels peaceful. Only birds could be heard it here, and I close my eyes for a moment to listen.

I figure this must be the place, but Lucien continues walking. In the distance I can see a big tree on a hill, which shields whatever is behind it from sight. Lucien seems to head for that hill in a straight line, crossing the meadow. I wish I can feel the grass between my toes. I always loved walking barefoot through the grass.

Lucien walks a little ahead of me, and starts to walk up the hill. Just before we arrive, he stops and turns to look at me. The smile on his face is bright, and slightly mischievous. It suits him extremely well, I think. He already is incredibly handsome, but this was to the point of ridiculousness. Even in a place as lovely as this, he was the thing that stand out to me the most. I suddenly shake awake from my thoughts, that hadn’t meant to stray that far. I must have been staring at him, but gratefully he doesn’t seem to have noticed. “Here we are.” He says, and walks all the way up the hill.

I am only halfway, but run the last bit to catch up with him. I come to a stop next to him, and look out over the landscape. The sight amazes me. My eyes open wider, and my mouth falls open. If I would still have been breathing, it would surely have taken my breath away. It still does, just not in the literal sense. But in every other way, certainly.

The green meadows are filled with horses. They move peacefully, unafraid of their new visitors, though I’m sure they are aware. They move between the trees, eating the grass or just walking around. There are too many to count, but I’m guessing there must be at least 30, possibly even more. Some of them are not much more than small figures in the distance, some of them are just down the hill we are standing on. The fact that we don’t scare the shit out of them must mean they are used to people. Though I’m guessing they wouldn’t like to pet, which certainly seemed a very attractive idea.

_Right, I can’t do that anyway. Idiot._ I remember, but the thought is short lived as I continue to marvel at the creatures below.

“They look beautiful, don’t they?” Lucien asks.

I nod, not taking my gaze away from the view. “They certainly are. However did you find this place?”

“Like I said, I was exploring the city the other day. I didn’t know the way, so I just walked to nowhere really. I realized I’d wandered away from the city, but the view here looked so inviting that I kept on walking. It reminds me of the Spring Court, but slightly different. I don’t know how to explain…” He trails off, his gaze distant for a moment. “Anyway, I accidentally stumbled onto this. One of my first thoughts was that you would probably love to see this sight. It seems I was right.”

I nod again. It was hard to believe that this beautiful place wasn’t actually that far away from the big city. Though we had walked a long, long way. I didn’t feel tired anymore so maybe it was further away than I thought.

“Can we… Can we stay here for a little while?” I ask shyly, looking up at him. Even though he took me here, I don’t know if he wants to stay here or just show me and then leave again.

He smiles however. “Of course we can. We can stay for as long as you like, Elain.”

I smile back and return my gaze to the horses, not wanting to take my eyes off of them for too long. Lucien sits down in the grass and I sit next to him. We sit again in comfortable silence, both of us admiring the view.

“Look look look! Over there, some of the horses are rolling!” I say in delight, pointing to the horses out. “Oh, and over there, two of them are scratching each other’s backs. How adorable!”

“Did you do a lot of riding?” I ask Lucien.

“Yes. All Fae ride, it is quite common. Patrolling, battle, hunting. Many of these are done on horseback. High Fae and noblemen learn it very young, along with a bunch of other stuff. Mostly for showing-off purposes. But I ride because I enjoy it. In Autumn and Spring Court I would just go on a pleasure ride for hours through the woods whenever I could. Most of the time alone, though occasionally someone else would join me. I simply love doing it however, and I actually miss it.” I smile at him, imagining him riding through the woods for hours, just him and his horse. What a beautiful sight that must be.

“How about you?” He asks me.

“Well, only people with money could ride horses, and only the ones with a lot of money owned them. But before my family lost our fortune, I actually did go horse riding. I love it too. Nesta and Feyre very occasionally had sat on a horse because our father insisted, but I was the one who would go there every week, really learning how to. When the time was up, I was looking forward to the next lesson for the entire week. When we lost our fortune, I couldn’t go riding anymore. Not until it returned, than we owned some horses. I did the same thing, taking them out for a pleasure ride for hours. With the looming threat however, I sold them to a friend, not wanting any harm to befall on them. I’m very glad that I did, because I don’t know what would have happened to them now. Perhaps the servants would take care of them, but they probably would have sold them. But then I wouldn’t know where they are, and now at least I know they are in good hands.” 

I look at Lucien and notice him staring. Unknowingly, I stare back into those mismatched eyes. One of russet and one of gold. The golden one looks magnificently crafted, showing details I hadn’t seen before. The russet one looks far more complex however. Many different emotions, of which I couldn’t decipher most of them. I really want to however. I could easily get lost in them. In fact, I wanted to. Very much so.

As if we were both suddenly realizing what we were doing, we looked away as if touched by an electric wire. I look at him out of the corner of my eye again, hoping to see that blush again like in the garden. I wasn’t disappointed, and the corners of my mouth tug up a little at that.

“So, did you have your own horse? In the Spring Court and in the Autumn Court?” I ask him, trying to bring back the conversation again.

“Well, in both cases, the High Lord has his own stables. So technically, I didn’t actually own one myself. But I rode on all of them.”

“Were there any wild ones?” I ask with a smile.

“Do you want to know how many times I fell off?” he asks with a grin. “I wouldn’t even know, too many to count. I’ve been alive for centuries, I can’t keep up.”

I chuckle, though his words distract me. _I’ve been alive for centuries_. I can’t even imagine that.

“Well, I’ve fallen off… six times I believe?” I say, counting the times I can remember. “The first time I fell off I actually broke my collar bone. The other times I was fine though, climbed right back on again.”

We continue our conversation, Lucien telling me about a time when his mare decided to go after a stallion she fancied when he was patrolling in Spring Court. I start laughing out loud, the images in my head making it even funnier.

“Yes, you laugh. But can you imagine how embarrassing it was for me, when I was trying to lead my horse away from some poor old female who was just trying to make an evening stroll with her horse, but instead got followed around by a studious mare?”

This makes me laugh even harder however, my mind conjuring up more images of that sight. Lucien joins me, shaking his head.

The horses walk farther and farther away from us, until they are nearly out of sight. “Shall we head back?” I ask, wondering if he’s getting cold. I couldn’t feel it, but surely the temperature must be quite low, especially at this hour.

He nods, standing up. I follow him, and we head back down the hill side by side, continuing talking. When we reach the city again, we see some people walking about again. They don’t notice me, but I do notice that they’re all dressed a lot warmer than Lucien. Fair enough, I wasn’t even wearing sleeves and a skirt that was layers of lace, but I am dead.

Finally, I give in. “Aren’t you really cold?” I ask. He doesn’t seem very affected however.

Indeed, he shakes his head. “Not really. It’s a little chilly, I admit.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “How are you not cold? Everyone’s dressed like it’s winter already and you’re wearing a jacket. If I could still feel the weather, I’d be freezing probably.”

He shrugs, as if it’s nothing. “Fire keeps me warm.”

Now I look really confused, but he doesn’t notice. “Yeah, you’re going to have to explain a bit more than that.”

He looks at me, also a bit confused. “I’m from Autumn court.” He says, as if that would explain everything.

I nod, then shake my head. “Keep going, Lucien. You’ll get there.” I mock him.

“Right, you probably don’t know. The High Fae of the Autumn Court all have fire running in their veins. Mostly the males, but really powerful females too. My mother can do it too for example, she’s from a very skilled and powerful family when it comes to fire magic. We can use fire as our magic, in the same way that Rhysand has his special powers, or Tamlin can shape-shift.”

“Ah. Now it makes sense.” I think for a moment. “So you have fire in your body? Doesn’t it… burn you? Or is that a really stupid question to ask?”

“I don’t think that’s a stupid question at all. But no, it doesn’t burn. I can only really feel it when I’m using my magic. It does start to show up with certain emotions either. Fire power is very dangerous, so when you can’t contain your emotions right, the power becomes a dangerous thing. We learn how to wield it when we are small children. Especially me and my brothers, since one of us will become heir to the throne one day.”

“That actually sounds more like a burden then, to have such a dangerous power.” I say, hoping he doesn’t feel offended by it. But I’m genuinely concerned for him. Could he accidentally hurt himself with it? Has he ever been hurt by it, through someone else’s fault?

“Oh, but it can be quite nice too. People often see fire as destruction. But it only is destruction if you let it go wild and uncontrolled, or if you choose the destruction yourself. But fire is so much more than that.”

He holds up his hand, and I immediately startle back on instinct. He gives me a reassuring smile however. “Don’t worry, Elain. I’ll never hurt you. I just want to show you something. Do you trust me?” his eyes look into mine again. I don’t have to think about my answer, I know already.

“Yes. Show me.” I say, no hesitation.

A small fire erupts from his hand and my mouth opens in surprise and wonder for the second time this day. The fire starts to take shape, and it transforms into a small bird. It sits on his hand for a moment and looks at me. Then, it takes flight, the golden bird soaring into the sky. Before I know it, a dozen other birds show up, circling around us, taking flight and making beautiful twists and turns in the sky. A bird hovers just above my shoulder, and I laugh at it. “Hey there, pretty bird.”

The birds all fly up, the bird next to me joining the others, as the shapes drift apart and slowly turn into sparks. I look back at Lucien, who still is watching his fire. The light reflects in his eyes, and it makes him look so perfect. So much like a true son of Autumn, the fire in his hair reflecting the fire that was coming out of him right now. The sparks fall down as the fire extinguishes and I look up to see the last sparks coming down.

“That was beautiful beyond belief. Thank you for showing me that.” I meet his eyes again. “And thank you for showing me those beautiful horses. Thank you for everything, for taking me away from the house and talking to me.” Gratitude glints in my eyes, and I hope that and my words can tell him just quite how grateful I am to him. “It means the world to me, Lucien.”

“Hey, I promised you, remember? Even if I hadn’t, I still would have taken you there. I like spending time with you, Elain. I like talking to you.”

“I’m glad you do. The others… avoid me. Maybe I avoid them, I’m not sure. But I can feel how uncomfortable I make them when I talk to them. All they can see is a ghost. I haven’t quite realized how lonely I’ve been… until you showed up.” Only now when I say these words do I realize it. I’ve hardly had anyone to talk to. There are plenty of people coming and going in the house, but they’re either really busy or not very inclined to talk to a ghost. Which made the ghost very lonely, and a little sad.

“It’s always a pleasure talking to you, Elain. So if you want to talk, just call me. I’ll be sure to look for you too, if you don’t mind, of course.” He says, suddenly unsure. As if perhaps I don’t want to talk to him.

“Of course not! I love talking to you too.” I smile, earning one in return. I look down, as the air suddenly seems to change. Lucien clears his throat, and I look around the place. We continue our journey home, the sphere between us calming down again. I have no idea what that was about, but I do know this: there was starting to be a little place in my heart for Lucien. As a dear friend, of course.


	8. Stairway to the Skies

**Chapter 8: Stairway to the skies**

_I dream of a stairway to the skies  
My angel is coming down from heaven to take me  
I reach out but then you fade away  
Whenever you call for me  
Know that I’m only one step behind_

_Stairway to the skies – Within Temptation_

* * *

Elain POV

Since the day Lucien had taken me with him to the magnificent meadows filled with horses, we have spent hours of every day together. We both kept to our promise to seek each other out when we wanted somebody to talk to. We both feel like outsiders. Neither of us was a part of the Inner Circle, and although it was filled with lovely people, we didn’t really belong there. It was their own group, and it should stay like that. Besides, I don’t feel like seeking out their company anymore, and I’m quite certain Lucien feels the same. Talking and spending time with just each other was enough. He is truly the most genuine friend I’ve ever had. I had plenty of friends growing up, but when my family lost its fortune, they acted like they didn’t even know who I was. I felt terribly alone for years and years. Until our fortune returned. The same ‘friends’ that had neglected me for all those years suddenly became my friends again. It felt terribly wrong, and I knew it. But I had felt so alone for so many years, I didn’t want to feel like that anymore. So I played along with their act, though in the end it made me feel even more lonely than it had before.

Lucien was completely different however. When he asked something, he didn’t play interested, he _was_ interested. He actually listens and remembers things. He genuinely cares.   
In return, there was something extremely interesting about him as well. I’m not sure what it is, but something about him grasps my attention and holds on to it. Even when he leaves, I find myself guilty of sometimes still thinking about things he said, or how he waves his hands about when he is telling something. Most of our conversations happen in the garden or in the library. Mostly because those are the places we’re least likely to get interrupted.

It’s now been nearly three weeks since that day he took me there, and it seems we’re still not sick of each other. I’m certainly not sick of him yet. Which is why I’m looking for him. I can’t seem to find him however. I’ve looked in all the usual places I always do when I search for him. Which probably means he isn’t at home. Not knowing what else to do, I go and check his room one last time.

“Lucien?” I call for him loudly, but there’s no answer. It’s quite late in the day, but not late enough to be asleep already. I go through the door. Going through stuff such as doors or walls still freaks me out, even I don’t feel a thing while doing it. It seems so unnatural. I don’t really have another choice however if the door is closed. I look around the room, but find it empty as I expected.

I know I don’t really have a purpose or reason for being here now that he’s not here, but a mixture of boredom and curiosity holds me in place. I inspect the room. It’s only a temporary room, with very few things that belong to Lucien in there. I can see lots of maps and books opened upon desks and drawers. I take a look at them. Clearly Lucien was helping the Inner Circle with strategies for the war.

There’s not much else, only his jacket lying on the chair and some straps to tie his hair back. It fills me with sorrow. I know what it’s like to have nothing, but at least I always had my family. I don’t know much about Lucien, but I know that he’s not on good terms with his. We haven’t talked about it, but he had mentioned that he’s not on speaking terms with them. I have no idea what happened, but it must be something quite bad if he doesn’t speak to them anymore. He doesn’t even live in the Autumn Court anymore. Of course I was curious, but it’s not my business. If he wants to tell me someday I will listen, but I will not push him to tell.

And now he had fled Spring Court. I did know what happened there, since Feyre filled me in. Well, I probably didn’t know everything, but enough. He left with nothing more than the clothes on his back, fleeing to strange territory he grew up to believe was hostile, cruel and vile. The others all seem wary of him, even Feyre at times, but I feel nothing but a great amount of respect for him.

I turn and look at the bed. It looks so soft I wish I could lie down in it, to finally rest my head on the soft pillows and bury myself beneath the warm blanket. A longing fuels me. The days got harder and harder. No longer because of Graysen. He was still on my mind, every day. But the thoughts that were about him were getting less heavy, no longer threatening to drag me down and bury me. Lucien had no doubt helped me with that.

No, Graysen was not the reason anymore the days got harder and harder. The reason is being dead. Some have said it must be a great gift to be here as a ghost. They hardly saw the problem. They said that I still get to live, just differently. They couldn’t have strayed further from the truth. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. To be so close to living, but not entirely. Yes, I still get to talk to the people I love. But one condemned me and wrenched my heart until nothing was left. My sisters can’t see past me being dead, and talking with me brings them such a sorrow, so plain on their faces, I can’t get it over my heart to talk with them too much. It’s true, I don’t get hungry or thirsty. But I still remember the taste of delicious food and I miss it. I don’t get cold, but I wish to lie beneath blankets and cuddle close to someone to warm myself up. I don’t get tired, but I want to go to sleep so badly. There’s not a second in a day now where I don’t have to live with my own thoughts and it’s driving me mad.   
If only I could just go outside and garden. I want to have something to do, I want to feel the warm sun on my face. To feel someone touch my hand. To hear my heart beat again.

I sink to the ground, my head screaming at me. _You’re dead. You will never be able to do any of that ever again. You will not feel anything. Doomed for the rest of eternity._ I cover my ears and try to focus on something else, anything at all, but it’s not helping. The noises only get louder and louder. What if in time I will truly not feel _anything_ anymore? Now I don’t feel cold, or hunger or tiredness. But I can still feel emotions. What if I lose that ability too? It’s the only thing that still makes me feel human. To be able to be happy or sad, excited or angry. _You’ll lose it and you’re nothing more than a floating corpse. No thoughts, no feelings. Just a being that exists and nothing more._

“No, no, no! Stop it! STOP IT!” I scream, shaking my head as if I could shake away the thoughts.

“Elain? Elain! What is it, what’s going on?” Lucien shouts, hurrying into the room. His face is pale, worry written all over it. I keep shaking my head, the noises screaming louder than Lucien, louder than me. As I scream again for it to stop, Lucien tries to grab me, but his hands go right through me.

_See? There’s no one who can touch you, no comforting hands or warm embraces._ I start crying, my body wrecking with sobs. ‘’No, no, no, no… please stop, just stop, _please.”_

Lucien is desperate now. “Elain, please look at me love. Listen, listen to my voice. It’s alright. Everything’s okay, I’m here. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Focus on me, just on me. Nothing else is here. Let me help you, it will be alright.” Lucien’s soft but urgent voice breaks through the loud screams in my head. I keep my eyes tightly shut, but focus on his voice. Not the words, just the sound of it. He has a quite deep and melodic voice and I let it soothe me. He keeps talking softly, and I calm down a little. I can hear his heartbeat, and I focus on that. It’s a little fast, but I can feel it become steadier the more I calm down as well. I dare to open my eyes now, and very carefully remove my hands from my ears, as if the noises inside my head will start screaming again if I take them away. All stays quiet however, and I notice Lucien is silent now too, given me another intense look.

I look around the room a little, my vision a little blurry from the tears that were still there. I wipe them away, and no new ones take their place. The room is exactly the same as before, only Lucien is crouching right in front of me, more worried than I’ve ever seen him before.   
“Elain?” is all he asks, but it’s enough. I turn to look at him, feeling a little ashamed he had to find me like that.

“I’m sorry.” I say and he blinks in surprise.

“Whatever for?”

“For breaking down in your room.” I say matter-of-factly.

Lucien looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads and shakes his own. “I told you, stop apologizing for things you really shouldn’t apologise for.”

I try to give him a smile but can’t manage it, so nod instead.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks softly, the worry on his face also etched in his voice.

I think, trying to look for the right words, but I’m not even sure what happened myself. “I… Well, like I said, I broke down.”

“But why?”

“Because…” I trail off, shaking my head again. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a ghost? To be dead but not really? I’m not alive, but I’m not dead. I’m somewhere in between. I want to live more than anything in the world. But if I can’t, I’d rather go into an eternal sleep than… this. But I still have to march on through. Through this curse, for all eternity. I wish there was a way, I’d either be alive or truly dead. This is driving me insane, I fear that I will go truly mad. I can’t already do or feel so many things anymore, what if I lose the ability to feel altogether? No more emotions, I just become an empty shell to wander around for forever. Theirs is no point in me still being here. And if there is, what is that point? To get my heart broken by someone I loved and whom I thought loved me back? I would rather have died immediately than that I had to go through that pain. You said it gets better, but what if it doesn’t? What if it only get worse?”

Lucien’s eyes fill with sorrow and empathy. “My dearest Elain… I do not even think it is _possible_ for you to ever lose your emotions. You’re the most sympathetic and emotional person I’ve ever known, and that’s a _good_ thing Elain. And I still stand by my statement. It does get better. If I can believe that, than you should too.”

I shake my head, “But what if it doesn’t?” I push, trying to make him see what I see.

“So many what-if’s Elain. I know, I think about them too all the time. But what I’ve learned in the past centuries is also that what-if’s are the most pointless thoughts to keep yourself occupied with. There are so many possibilities in this world, and going through all of them won’t help you. What will help is actually believing something, and believe in something good and positive Elain. And if you can’t, I will do it for you.”

As always, a tinge of worry still gnaws my mind, but for Lucien’s sake I shove it aside. I can manage to give him a short smile now, even if it doesn’t reach my eyes.

“And as for a purpose… maybe you do have one, it just hasn’t shown itself yet. For as far as we know, there has never been another ghost before. The mortal queens that have died in the Cauldron aren’t ghosts. No Fae has ever been a ghost. So maybe there is a purpose to this all. And even if there isn’t… if you had truly died that day, I would never have gotten to know you. It’s a truly terribly selfish though, forgive me. But I can’t deny that knowing you is a blessing to me.” He looks uncertain, torn between guilt and hope.

I hadn’t thought about that yet. It’s true, these moments with him have brought more joy to me than my actual life. “You’re right.” I say, and this time a genuine smile shows on my face. “I wouldn’t have known you if I had actually died. Maybe there’s a purpose after all. Or maybe you _are_ the purpose then, Lucien.” I joke, smiling a bit brighter.

Lucien huffs, almost looking shy again. “Sure, mock me again. Must be an Archeron trait.”

I chuckle and stand up, Lucien following me. “Did you come here looking for me?” he asks, since we’re standing in his room.

I nod in confirmation. “Yes, I was looking for you. Before the whole thing happened. Where have you been?”

“In the city, doing something for a friend.” I raise an eyebrow, but he doesn’t comment any further.

“Well, I was rather hoping you would come with me to the library again.” I say. I wasn’t actually planning on going to the library, but after this whole affair I didn’t feel like staying in this room any longer than necessary.

“Of course. Lead the way, my lady.” He says, stepping out of the way and gestures with his hand towards the door opening.

I roll my eyes. “I thought I told you you shouldn’t call me like that anymore.”

“Yes, and I thought I’d said you should stop apologising for things and yet here we are.” He grins.

I shake my head but lead the way anyway. _Males,_ I think.

* * *

We enter the library. I look around, but fortunately nobody else is here. I preferred talking in private with him much more. It made me feel much more comfortable, and I think he feels the same.

We talk about lighter topics this time, telling each other about some of the stupid things we did as children. This was an ongoing thing for us, becoming a competition almost with who had done the most and stupidest stuff as a child. Lucien was winning by miles and miles, of course.

“So you ran into a lamppost not once but _twice?_ ” he asks in disbelief.

“Yes. The first time I was literally running, so that hurt very badly. Second time I looked backwards and I looked ahead of me again just in time for the lamppost.” I grin, thinking about the accidents. I really _had_ hurt however.

“And here I was, thinking you were pretty with a brain too. It seems like I was a bit off about the last part though.” Lucien smiles with one of his signature smirks.

“Hey! That’s a lot coming from the male who thought his mothers fur slippers were hairy bunny’s and was disappointed when they wouldn’t eat.” I shoot back, his smirk spurring me on.

“Yes, but I was three years old. And when rabbits don’t eat there’s something very wrong, so I was afraid they’d die.”

“But they’re old slippers. They don’t even live in the first place.” I say, not letting him off so easy.

He narrows his eyes at me. “How old were you when you ran into those lampposts?”

I think for a moment. “Not sure, probably around eight or nine or something.”

“Truly, an inspiration. Now it amazes me your face is still so pretty after continuously smashing it into things. I remember when you told me that you climbed onto the roof of your parent’s carriage and fell off, smashing your face into one of it’s wheels.” He says with a lazy smile, leaning back in his chair, looking way to comfortable.

“If you’re not careful I’ll find some slippers to throw into your face, so you can eat them.” I threaten him, realizing a bit too late I can’t actually do that. I freeze for a moment, but Lucien throws his head back in laughter and I relax again, laughing along too.

We talk some more, until a comfortable silence settles in. I inspect the books in the library as I wander through the fiction section. Most books here were filled with information about all sorts of things, but there were some books to read simply for entertainment. They all seem to be Fae books, because I don’t recognize any of them. Sometimes the title even gives it away. Lucien comes to stand next to me, inspecting the books as well.

“I really wish I could read these. Just to pass the time a little. I can’t hold them however. And asking someone to put it down and twist the page every time goes a bit too far I think.” I smile and look at Lucien, but he wasn’t smiling.

I hover my hand over the books, trying to grasp it. Maybe I could, in a different way, I just didn’t know how yet. But whatever I tried, the book stayed in its place, my hand going right through it every single time. I give up with a sigh, ready to move on. Lucien’s voice holds me in place however.

“I could read it for you.” He asks, his tone very serious.

I open my mouth to say something, but close it again. “I would like that, thank you.” Is all I manage to say, my throat clenching a little.

“Which one?” he asks.

“I don’t know any of these, I have no idea what they’re about. What do you recommend?”

Lucien picks up a book and shows it to me. “Sounds good. Let’s take that one.”

Lucien returns to his chair, and I sit down next to him. He opens the book and starts reading. His voice is almost distracting, so nice it sounds. I actually have to focus so I can hear the words, not just the sound of his voice. But the story does sound very interesting, and I’m quickly caught up in the story. I don’t know for how long we’ve been sitting here, but at some point Lucien had to make a fire to be able to still read. Outside, the sky was ink black. I am still very invested in the story, when I notice Lucien’s voice starts cracking every now and again, and he suppresses a yawn. I know notice the circles under his eyes and immediately feel guilty. It had already been quite late in the evening when I’d started looking for him, and now it surely must be past two at night.

“Lucien, let’s stop here. You look and sound incredibly tired. Let’s call it a night. Though I believe we are already halfway through the night, if you ask me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lucien apologises and stretches, followed by a yawn he doesn’t suppress.

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to apologise for such things that you shouldn’t be allowed either.” I smile.

“Fair enough. But if you like I can continue reading. I don’t mind.” He says, even though he looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

“And how are you going to read then? With your eyes closed? I’d quite like to see that, I admit. But as much as I truly love to listen to you read for me, I truly greatly appreciate it, let’s stop for now. We can continue tomorrow if you like. But now please get some sleep.”

He gives me a sleepy smile, and he looks even more beautiful while doing that. His hair is loose, and a little messed up. I want to run my fingers through it, I realize. Not to smoothen it, but to make it ever messier. Instead of sitting on the chair next to him while listening to him read, I’d rather sit on his lap and snuggle up against him, feel the warmth of the fire running through his body.

Despite being cold and dead, I can feel my body heating up at those thoughts. Lucien, mercifully, doesn’t seem to notice it however. I quickly avert my gaze as he puts the book on the table, and stands up.

“I bid you a goodnight then, Elain.” He says as he moves towards the door.

“Lucien?” I call him back, making him turn around.

“I really meant what I said. I love listening to you read to me. I’m really grateful that you would do that for me.” I say, looking him in the eyes.

He is completely still for a moment, just looking at me, and I wonder if I said or did something wrong. But then he speaks: “Anything for you Elain. Anything.”

The next moment he has disappeared through the door opening. It’s my turn to go completely still now, and I stare at the place he’d stood for minutes and minutes.

I felt the words throughout my entire being. As if the words meant so much more than he let on. Though his words were already quite big. They ring in my ears, much more pleasant than my own thoughts. The words, they felt like a promise. _“Anything for you Elain. Anything.”_

Had it been a promise, or am I imagining things? _I hope it’s a promise_ , I think.  
But then my momentary happiness sinks to the ground. It’s an empty promise. Even if he hadn’t meant it like that. Because the dead cannot be together with the living.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hoped you like it!
> 
> I'd really like feedback, because like I said, it's my first time writing since years. So any feedback storywise, language/grammar, or anything else are very much welcome!
> 
> Also, I'd love to hear what you think of the story!


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